a  v  i 


•  -.' 


THE 
THIRTEENTH     JUROR 


BOOKS  BY 
THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

FICTION 

The  Case  and  Exceptions 
The  Minority 
The  Web 
The  Accomplice 

HISTORY 

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Decisive  Battles  of  the  Law 

The  Story  of  a  Street 

On  the  Trail  of  Washington 

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LAW 
The  Care  of  Estates 


"uoatod  \!s  C^M  •*- 


Tell  him  to  raise  law  points,  and  more  law  points,  and  then  some  more. 


THE 
THIRTEENTH     JUROR 

A  TALE  OUT  OF  COURT 


BY 


FREDERICK  TREVOR  HILL 

Author  of  "Lincoln  the  Lawyer,"  "The 
Accomplice,"  etc. 


Illustrated  by 
GORDON  GRANT 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1913 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


Copyright,  1912,  1913.  by 
TBI  ODTLOOI  COMPAHT 


Published,  September, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

i    AN  APPEARANCE 3 

ii     THE  PEOPLE  vs.  DENSLOW 18 

in  NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE    ....     28 

iv  THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR     ....     41 

V    WITHOUT    PREJUDICE 50 

vi     TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 64 

vii    A  SHORT  CAUSE 83 

vin     LEAVE    TO    INTERVENE 94 

ix    CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 105 

x    IN  OPEN  COURT 116 

xi  FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  RECORD  ....   136 

xii     PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 141 

xni     DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 153 

xiv    JUDGES  OF  THE  FACTS 165 

xv  THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION      ....   172 

xvi     ON  THE  MERITS 187 

xvii     To  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 196 


2136240 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"Tell  him  to  raise  law  points,  and  more 

law  points,  and  then  some  more"  .      Frontispiece 

Gedney  implored  other  litigants  to  concede  him 

the  right  of  way  on  the  jury  calendar     .      .       7 

The  lobby  strained  its  ears  to  catch  some  echo  of 

the  conversation  that  followed     .      .      .      .      13 

"The  mail  ?     Well,  don't  let  Mr.  Poinder  see  it"  .     59 
"Then  I  demand  a  trial  now !"  exclaimed  Poinder     75 

"Nope,"    Pete    answered.     "Everything 's    above 

board  in  this  game" 97 

"Do  you  see  any  green  in  that?"  he  drawled     .   183 
"So  long,  gentlemen.     See  you  next  term,  I  hope"  207 


.  .  ."  I  pray  you,  Sir,  to  understate  your  case 
"Lest  the  full  truth,  surprising  past  belief, 
"Deafen  untutored  ears" 

Lophos. 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 


"We  must  not  make  a  scarecrow  of  the  Law, 
"Setting  it  up  to  fear  the  birds  of  prey, 
"And  let  it  keep  one  shape,  till  custom  make  it 
"  Their  perch  and  not  their  terror." 

Measure  for  Measure. 


THE  THIRTEENTH 
JUROR 

CHAPTER  I 

AN  APPEARANCE 

"They  reckon  ill  who  leave  me  out." 

Emerson. 

AS  a  matter  of  record,  the  Circuit  Court  ad- 
journs twice  a  day  during  its  stay  at  Belo. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  never  adjourns  at  all,  for 
when  the  judge  leaves  the  bench  the  proceedings 
are  merely  transferred  from  the  floor  of  the  court- 
house to  the  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House,  where 
lawyers,  witnesses,  litigants,  and  jurors  fraternize 
in  continuous  session  until  the  reopening  of  the 
official  tribunal.  Indeed,  that  antiquated,  if  not 
ancient,  hostelry — the  Reeve  House — is  quite  gen- 
erally regarded  by  Fraser  County  in  the  light  of 
an  annex  to  the  Court,  and  some  even  profess  to 

3 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

believe  that  it  is  the  more  important  forum  of  the 
two.  Certainly  the  village  cynic  is  not  alone  in 
championing  it  upon  the  ground  that  cases  are 
really  settled  there,  whereas  in  the  Court  they 
are  merely  kicked  up  the  stairway  of  appeal. 
But  public  opinion  in  Belo  rather  frowns  on  re- 
marks of  that  character,  as  Dick  Poinder  learned 
to  his  cost  when  he  announced,  after  one  of  his 
exasperating  experiences  in  Gedney's  case,  that 
the  lobby  dispensed  justice  and  the  Court  dis- 
pensed with  it.  In  fact,  that  travel-stained  witti- 
cism was  in  some  danger  of  being  taken  too  seri- 
ously until  the  Bar  laughed  it  away  by  subjecting 
its  perpetrator  to  a  mock  trial  for  plagiarism 
during  the  hilarious  wind-up  of  the  Christmas 
term. 

On  the  evening  that  the  Resurrectionist  first 
appeared  upon  the  scene  the  lobby  was  sitting  as 
a  sort  of  Court  of  Appeal,  reviewing  the  day's 
work  just  completed  at  the  rival  tribunal  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  road.  Every  chair  in  the 
circle  that  ringed  the  huge  stove  was  occupied; 
half  a  dozen  unclaimed  trunks  had  been  dragged 
from  a  corner  to  serve  as  settees ;  the  writing-table 

4 


AN  APPEARANCE 

had  been  utilized  as  a  gallery;  even  the  proprie- 
tor's sanctum  had  been  invaded  and  robbed  of  its 
solitary  high  stool,  and  Old  Man  Reeve,  thus  de- 
prived of  his  favorite  throne,  had  perched  himself 
on  the  office  desk,  with  his  feet  dangling  over  the 
front,  from  which  post  of  vantage  he  seemed  to 
be  presiding  over  the  assemblage  with  all  the 
commanding  calmness  of  a  judge  upon  the  bench. 
Old  Man  Reeve  had  undoubtedly  once  been 
young,  but  his  youth  probably  antedated  the 
period  of  the  yellow,  cracked,  and  fly-blown  litho- 
graph of  the  Bar  of  Eraser  County,  which  had 
served  as  the  sole  ornament  of  the  lobby  since  the 
early  seventies.  At  all  events,  those  who  knew 
him  at  that  distant  day  asserted  that  he  was  an 
old  man  then.  But  if  he  had  aged  prematurely, 
time  had  dealt  kindly  with  him  on  the  whole,  for 
his  round,  clean-shaven  face  had  suffered  no 
change  for  many  a  season,  and  no  one  thought 
any  more  of  his  years  than  of  the  fact  that  he 
always  wore  low  black  shoes  and  white  socks,  and 
never  condescended  to  a  collar.  His  neighbors 
in  Belo,  it  is  true,  reported  that  his  vitality  often 
seemed  to  wane  during  vacations,  when  the  county 

5 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

seat  relapsed  into  its  normal  role  of  a  retired 
inland  village;  but  each  advent  of  the  Court  ap- 
parently gave  him  a  new  lease  of  life,  and  he 
invariably  welcomed  the  returning  Bench  and  Bar 
with  all  the  vigor  and  heartiness  of  a  man  in  the 
prime  of  life. 

Certainly  there  was  no  keener  observer  in  Eraser 
County  than  Peter  Reeve  as  he  sat  on  his  impro- 
vised rostrum,  pipe  in  hand,  beaming  a  bene- 
diction on  his  assembled  guests.  He  knew  every 
man  in  the  place  and  just  what  had  brought  him 
there;  he  could  name  every  juror  who  had  sat  on 
any  case  of  importance  during  the  past  thirty 
years,  and  give  the  inside  history  of  his  verdict; 
he  was  generally  familiar  with  the  claims  of  the 
litigants  long  before  they  reached  the  court-room ; 
and  there  were  not  many  lawyers  who  could  tell 
him  anything  he  did  not  already  know  concerning 
the  private  affairs  of  their  clients. 

For  instance,  as  he  peered  through  the  gather- 
ing haze  of  tobacco  smoke,  he  knew  exactly  what 
was  troubling  the  frail  little  man  who,  note-book 
in  hand,  was  hovering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  wide 
circle  surrounding  the  stove.  David  Gedney  and 

6 


Gedney  implored  other  litigants  to  concede  him  the  right  of  way 
on  the  jury  calendar 


AN  APPEARANCE 

he  had  been  friends  since  the  day  when  the  firm 
of  Gedney  &  Son  first  started  in  business  just 
across  the  State  line,  and  he  had  seen  that  business 
expand  and  prosper  until  it  began  to  threaten  the 
gigantic  Farm  Supply  Company  with  a  competi- 
tion as  unwelcome  as  it  was  unprecedented.  It 
was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  he  was  familiar 
with  every  detail  of  the  bitter  trade  war  that  had 
followed,  the  upshot  of  which  was  a  litigation 
which  had  crippled  his  friend's  resources  and  was 
now  menacing  the  very  existence  of  his  firm.  For 
five  terms — more  than  a  year — he  had  applauded 
Gedney's  dauntless  struggle  to  bring  his  enemies  to 
bay  in  the  court-room,  but  thus  far  the  Supply 
Company  had  managed  to  postpone  the  day  of 
reckoning  by  the  various  shifts  and  evasions 
familiar  to  all  the  Bar,  but  particularly  well 
known  to  its  attorney,  Mr.  Artemus  Peck,  one  of 
Fraser  County's  most  expert  defeaters  of  the  law. 
Gedney  had  long  since  reached  that  dangerous 
period  in  the  pursuit  of  justice  when  clients  are 
neither  laymen  nor  lawyers.  In  fact,  Dick 
Poinder,  his  counsel,  had  been  obliged  to  protest 
against  his  over-anxious  interference  time  and 

9 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

again,  reminding  him  that  his  business  demanded 
his  whole  attention  and  that  by  neglecting  it  he 
was  positively  imperiling  his  cause.  But  Gedney, 
with  his  property  all  tied  up  and  his  credit  ex- 
hausted, was  beyond  advice,  and  term  after  term 
he  had  haunted  the  lobby,  note-book  in  hand,  in- 
terviewing lawyers,  buttonholing  court  clerks, 
imploring  other  litigants  to  concede  him  the  right 
of  way  on  the  jury  calendar,  and  generally  work- 
ing himself  into  a  nervous  condition  bordering  on 
insanity.  Indeed,  on  this  particular  evening 
there  was  a  really  dangerous  gleam  in  his  tired 
eyes  as  he  completed  his  tour  of  the  room,  and, 
sinking  down  on  one  of  the  crowded  trunks,  whis- 
pered to  his  nearest  neighbor  that  he  held  the  top 
of  the  calendar  at  last  and  that  hell  itself  could  n't 
prevent  his  case  from  being  heard  in  the  morning. 

The  young  farmer  to  whom  this  enigmatical 
remark  was  addressed  glanced  apprehensively  at 
the  speaker  and  promptly  vacated  his  seat  on  pre- 
tense of  seeking  a  light  for  his  cigar. 

"Who 's  the  crazy  old  guy  with  the  note-book, 
Pete?"  he  inquired  as  he  reached  the  desk. 

Old  Man  Reeve,  listening  to  the  tag  end  of  a 
10 


AN  APPEARANCE 

story  from  his  side  of  the  circle,  disregarded  the 
question  for  a  moment,  and  then  striking  a  match 
on  his  trousers  and  shading  the  flame  with  his 
hands,  proceeded  to  relight  his  pipe. 

"Reckon  your  Paw  'd  feel  kinder  set  up,  Eph, 
if  he  b'lieved  you  'd  ever  be  as  crazy  as  Dave 
Gedney,"  he  replied,  between  puffs. 

The  youth  laughed  uneasily  and  shot  a  swift 
glance  at  his  recent  neighbor. 

"Gosh!  Is  that  Gedney  of  Gedney  &  Son?" 
he  exclaimed.  "No  wonder  I  did  n't  recognize 
him.  He 's  changed  something  terrible,  and  as 
for  talk—" 

"You  can't  alwuz  tell  about  a  man  by  his  talk, 
Eph,"  interrupted  Reeve.  "For  instance,  ef  I 
sized  you  up  by  what  you  Jve  just  let  on  as  to 
Gedney,  I  'd  kinder  suspect  you  wuz  n't  all  in- 
tellect. But  maybe  you  're  a  better  judge  er 
outsides,  son,"  he  continued,  "and  ef  so,  you 
can  tell  me  what 's  coming  in  at  the  door  right 
now.  Blamed  ef  I  ever  saw  the  like  of  it  afore 
in  Eraser  County." 

The  individual  to  whom  the  old  man  thus  called 
attention  was  certainly  an  unfamiliar  type  to  the 

11 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

denizens  of  the  Reeve  House,  for  all  conversation 
had  instantly  ceased  as  he  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  every  eye  was  centered  upon  him  as  he  closed 
the  door  and  stood  looking  inquiringly  about  him. 
Perhaps  his  huge  stature,  pompous  bearing,  mas- 
sive head,  and  strong,  hard  face  would  have  at- 
tracted more  than  a  passing  notice  in  any  com- 
pany, but  it  was  not  his  face  or  his  physique  at 
which  the  habitues  of  the  lobby  stared  in  fascina- 
tion. It  was  his  high  silk  hat,  his  fur-lined, 
broadcloth  overcoat,  his  chamois  gloves,  patent 
leather  shoes,  and  mouse-gray  spats  that  held  them 
spellbound.  But  if  the  stranger  was  aware  of 
the  sensation  he  was  creating  he  did  not  betray  it 
as  he  leisurely  unbuttoned  his  great-coat,  and, 
shaking  the  powder  of  snow  from  its  broad  folds, 
glanced  superciliously  over  the  room.  Then  he 
strode  directly  to  the  desk  and  paused  before  its 
occupant. 

Old  Man  Reeve  did  not  stir  from  his  perch  as 
the  visitor  approached,  but  nodded  a  greeting  and 
glanced  through  his  big-rimmed  spectacles  at  the 
card  which  was  offered  him.  Then  he  looked  up 

12 


AN  APPEARANCE 

with  a  comical,  questioning  expression  and,  cock- 
ing his  head,  apparently  invited  explanation. 
The  lobby  strained  its  ears  to  catch  some  echo  of 
the  conversation  that  followed,  but  the  newcomer 
spoke  in  low  tones  and  the  proprietor  confined 
himself  to  monosyllables,  accompanied  with  a 
wide-eyed  stare  of  amused  astonishment  and 
punctuated  by  an  occasional  nod  or  shake  of  the 
head.  As  the  dialogue  continued,  however,  it 
was  apparent  that  the  visitor  was  becoming  irri- 
tated, and  finally,  when  he  turned  away  with  a 
muttered  exclamation  of  disgust,  and,  striding 
across  the  room,  banged  the  door  behind  him,  a 
chorus  of  inquiry  broke  forth. 

"What's  the  matter,  Pete?  .  .  .  Didn't  his 
nibs  like  our  looks'?  .  .  .  Who 's  his  Royal  High- 
ness, old  man*?  .  .  .  Say,  Pete,  do  you  charge 
extra  for  shows  like  that?  .  .  .  Why  did  n't  you 
tell  us  you  knew  the  Prince  of  Monte  Cristo, 
Grandpa?  .  .  .  That  was  n't  any  common  Prince, 
Mr.  Reeve.  That  was  a  New  York  chauffeur! 
.  .  .  No,  it  was  n't !  It  was  a  soap  advertise- 
ment. What's  his  brand,  Pete?" 

15 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Old  Man  Reeve  glanced  at  the  card  in  his  hand 
and  smilingly  shook  his  head  at  the  storm  of  ques- 
tions. 

"You  kin  search  me,  boys,"  he  answered.  "He 
did  n't  tell  me  what  he  wuz,  but  only  what  he 
wanted.  Bet  you  'd  never  guess  what  it  wuz, 
though.  A  suit  of  rooms  and  a  bath!" 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  this  announcement, 
in  which  the  host  of  the  Reeve  House  joined  so 
heartily  that  he  was  obliged  to  remove  his  spec- 
tacles and  wipe  the  moisture  from  his  eyes. 

"He  allowed,"  he  continued,  chuckling,  "that 
he  telegraphed  for  that  suit  day  afore  yesterday, 
and  was  madder  than  hops  when  I  told  him  we 
did  n't  have  anything  but  lawsuits  ready  for  him. 
I  Jm  going  to  have  that  telegram  framed  ef  Bill 
Watson  ever  gits  time  to  send  it  over  from  the 
depot.  Reckon  it'd  kinder  give  a  stylish  tone 
to  the  House,  eh,  boys?" 

"Where's  he  gone,  Pete*?"  inquired  Brundage, 
the  State's  Attorney. 

"I  sent  him  down  to  Miss  Prescott's.  She 
turned  one  of  her  bay  windows  into  a  bathroom 
last  summer,  and  maybe  she  kin  fix  him  up. 

16 


AN  APPEARANCE 

He  '11  be  in  hot  water,  though,  if  he  puts  on  any 
airs  with  Ellen.  O  Lordy,  yes!" 

"What  alias  is  the  Great  Mogul  using  just  at 
present1?"  drawled  Poinder,  tipping  back  his  chair 
against  one  of  the  columns  supporting  the  lobby 
ceiling. 

"This  bit  of  pasteboard  is  labeled  'Wallace 
Dunham,'  "  responded  the  old  man. 

Poinder's  chair  bumped  the  floor  as  he  leaned 
eagerly  toward  the  speaker. 

"Wallace  Dunham!"  he  exclaimed.  "Not 
Wallace  Dunham,  the  Resurrectionist*?  Yes,  by 
George,  it  is !  I  knew  I  'd  seen  his  face  before." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    PEOPLE    VS.    DENSLOW 

"All  thieves  who  could  my  fees  afford 
Relied  on  my  orations, 
And  many  a  burglar  I  've  restored 
To  his  friends  and  his  relations." 

Gilbert. 

THE  group   around   the   wood  stove   stared 
silently  at  the  speaker. 

"What  did  you  say  the  gentleman  was,  Dick?" 
inquired  Brundage  after  a  pause.  "An  In- 
surrectionist?" 

"No,    the    'Resurrectionist.'     At    least   that  s 
what  they  used  to  call  him  in  the  city  fifteen  or 
twenty  years  ago." 
"Is  he  a  minister?" 

"No,"  whispered  Hixon,  the  enfant  terrible  of 
the  Bar.  "He  's  the  undertaker  that 's  going  to 
bury  Gedney  after  the  trial  to-morrow.  Eh, 
Poinder?" 

18 


THE  PEOPLE  VS.  DENSLOW 

The  lawyer  frowned  and  cast  an  anxious  glance 
at  his  client's  careworn  face. 

"Shut  up,  Hixon,"  muttered  Brundage. 
"That 's  a  rotten  kind  of  joking.  Did  you  say 
your  friend  was  a  minister,  Dick*?" 

"No,  indeed,"  returned  Poinder,  smilingly. 
"He  's  a  lawyer  with  a  practice  as  big  as  a  Trust. 
What  the  dickens  is  he  doing  in  Belo,  I  wonder*?" 

"Why  do  you  call  him  the  Resurrectionist1?" 

"Oh,  that 's  just  a  nickname.  His  specialty 
is  reviving  cases  that  are  generally  considered 
dead  and  done  for.  At  least  that 's  what  he 
made  his  reputation  on,  and  it  was  well  earned, 
too,  for  I  once  knew  him  to  bring  a  dead  man 
back  to  life." 

"Oh,  come  now !  That 's  too  much,  even  for 
the  Munchausen  of  the  lobby,"  protested  a  voice 
from  the  other  side  of  the  circle,  and  Poinder, 
glancing  in  that  direction,  observed  that  his  op- 
ponent Artemus  Peck  had  risen. 

"Well,  it  may  be  too  much  for  you,  my  dear 
Baron,"  he  drawled.  "You  're  the  best  judge  of 
that.  But  truth  is  stranger  than  even  your  fic- 
tions, as  I  can  show  you  if  you  '11  wait  a  minute." 

19 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"Sorry  I  can't  stay,  but  I  've  never  had  any 
reason  to  doubt  the  strangeness  of  your  truths, 
Poinder.  Come  on,  Bob,  if  you  're  coming." 

Hixon  rose  as  Peck  passed  out  of  the  front  door, 
and  for  some  moments  after  he  had  followed  his 
friend  the  lobby  was  uncomfortably  quiet.  There 
was  always  too  much  bitterness  in  Poinder's  and 
Peck's  repartee  for  the  Bar  of  Fraser  County. 
It  invariably  smacked  of  a  family  quarrel  dis- 
agreeably embarrassing  to  all  within  earshot,  but 
Old  Man  Reeve  usually  came  to  the  rescue,  as  he 
did  on  this  occasion. 

"Go  on  and  tell  us  about  your  Revivalist,  Mr. 
Poinder,"  he  suggested. 

"Resurrectionist,  Pete,"  corrected  the  lawyer. 
"Revivalist  is  much  too  mild  a  term.  Well,  may- 
be some  of  you  remember  that  I  served  my  legal 
apprenticeship  in  the  office  of  the  State's  Attorney 
in  the  big  city  more  years  ago  than  I  like  to  con- 
fess. Anyway,  it  was  there  I  first  met  Wallace 
Dunham.  He  was  n't  so  fat  and  prosperous  as 
he  is  now,  and  he  did  n't  despise  criminal  business 
when  it  knocked  at  his  door.  But  he  never  was 
the  kind  of  fellow  that  practises  for  love  or  fame, 

20 


THE  PEOPLE  VS.  DENSLOW 

so  I  was  astonished  when  he  appeared  as  the  coun- 
sel for  Buck  Denslow,  who  had  neither  money 
nor  friends.  Buck  was  just  a  common  ruffian 
who  had  betrayed  one  of  his  gang  to  the  police 
and  then  shot  another  pal  who  discovered  his 
treachery  and  threatened  to  expose  it.  He  was 
caught  red-handed,  and  I  suppose  it  was  because 
the  case  was  absolutely  indefensible  that  its  prose- 
cution was  intrusted  to  me,  for  I  was  nothing  but 
a  novice  at  the  time.  Well,  I  venture  to  say 
that  no  tyro  at  the  Bar  ever  received  as  rough  an 
initiation  into  the  ways  of  the  law  as  came  to  me 
out  of  the  case  of  the  People  vs.  Denslow  from 
the  moment  Wallace  Dunham  appeared  upon  the 
scene. 

"He  began  proceedings  by  moving  to  set  aside 
the  indictment  on  the  ground  that  it  did  not  state 
that  Denslow's  victim,  Ben  Limond,  was  a  human 
being,  and  that  no  one  could  be  indicted  for  mur- 
der unless  he  had  killed  a  human  being.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Limond  was  more  of  a  brute  than 
a  man,  and  at  first  I  regarded  Dunham's  point  as 
a  joke.  Anyhow,  I  never  dreamed  that  the  courts 
would  listen  to  it.  ...  Did  you  say  they 

21 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

wouldn't,  Corning'?  All  right,  my  boy!  I'll 
give  you  verse  and  chapter  for  that  case  and  you 
can  follow  it  as  I  did,  all  the  way  up  to  the  highest 
tribunal  in  the  State.  You  '11  do  it  quicker  than  I 
did,  however,  for  by  the  time  the  last  court  dis- 
posed of  his  arguments  Dunham  had  consumed  the 
best  part  of  a  year,  and  all  this  time  his  client  had 
been  enjoying  the  hospitality  of  one  of  our  most 
comfortable  jails — a  fact  which  was  beginning  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  press.  Of  course,  I 
was  n't  to  blame  for  that,  but  I  had  no  desire  to 
be  criticized,  and  I  pressed  the  case  to  trial  with 
the  utmost  vigor.  Indeed,  I  rushed  it  so  furiously 
into  court  that  Dunham  nearly  broke  my  heart 
when  he  tripped  me  with  a  dictionary." 

"Tripped  you  with  a  dictionary!"  interrupted 
Corning.  "That 's  a  joke,  is  n't  it*?" 

"Indeed  it  was  no  joke.  The  day  before  the 
case  was  set  for  trial  Dunham  called  at  my  office 
to  advise  me — out  of  professional  courtesy,  he 
said — that  there  was  an  error  in  that  part  of  the 
indictment  which  described  Limond's  wound  as 
being  in  his  breast.  'Well,  it  was  in  his  breast,' 

22 


THE  PEOPLE  VS.  DENSLOW 

I  asserted.  No  mistake  about  that.  'But  not  in 
his  b-r-e-s-t,'  he  persisted,  showing  me  the  mistake 
in  typewriting  the  word.  I  laughed,  but  he  re- 
torted by  pulling  down  one  of  the  law  reports 
from  my  shelves  and  pointing  to  a  decision  that 
declared  that  such  misspelling  in  an  indict- 
ment rendered  it  fatally  defective.  ...  Maybe 
you  think  there  is  no  such  case,  Corning1?  Oh! 
You  have  seen  that  one,  have  you*?  Well,  I 
did  n't  thank  Dunham  for  showing  it  to  me.  The 
old  fox  merely  wanted  to  save  himself  the  trouble 
of  drawing  up  motion  papers,  and  knew  this  pre- 
tended courtesy  would  serve  him  equally  well. 
And  it  did.  I  consulted  with  my  chief,  of  course, 
but  he  decided  it  was  n't  safe  to  proceed  in  the  face 
of  that  decision,  and  we  began  our  proceedings 
all  over  again. 

"By  this  time  you  can  readily  believe  that  I  had 
grown  somewhat  wary,  and  I  tell  you  every  /  was 
crossed  and  every  i  dotted  before  my  new  papers 
were  filed.  Indeed,  they  must  have  been  pretty 
well  drawn,  for  Dunham  was  plainly  worried, 
and  he  fairly  deluged  me  with  motions  to  inspect 

23 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

the  minutes  of  the  grand  jury,  to  change  the  place 
of  trial,  to  determine  the  sanity  of  the  prisoner, 
to  stay  the  trial  pending  the  arrival  of  missing 
witnesses,  to  do  anything  and  everything  that 
would  delay  the  proceedings  or  free  his  man  by 
hook  or  crook.  I  've  got  the  documents  that  were 
printed  at  the  State's  expense  in  the  various  ap- 
peals before  a  jury  was  even  as  much  as  summoned 
in  Denslow's  case,  and  I  give  you  my  word  they 
fill  two  volumes,  each  as  big  as  an  unabridged 
dictionary. 

"But  we  got  to  trial  at  last,  and  though  the 
case  was  simplicity  itself,  I  prepared  it  with  the 
utmost  care.  Not  too  carefully,  however,  for 
Dunham  poured  exceptions  into  the  record  in  a 
steady  stream,  and  strung  out  the  testimony  day 
after  day  until  he  accumulated  such  a  mass  of 
stuff  that  two  assistants  of  mine  had  to  work 
nearly  a  month  with  the  stenographers'  notes 
when  it  became  necessary  to  print  the  papers  on 
appeal.  .  .  .  Oh,  yes,  of  course  I  convicted 
Denslow.  But  that  is  n't  the  point  of  my  yarn. 
You  don't  suppose  I  'd  bore  you  fellows  if  I  'd 
nothing  more  to  offer  than  the  old,  old  story  of 

24 


THE  PEOPLE  VS.  DENSLOW 

the  law's  delays.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  convicted 
Buck  four  times. 

"I  don't  know  that  the  details  of  that  long 
game  of  'last  tag'  would  interest  you,  but  some 
of  them  were  a  bit  out  of  the  ordinary.  After 
the  first  verdict  the  appellate  court  ordered  a  new 
trial  because  of  a  technical  objection  which  Dun- 
ham had  interposed  to  the  method  of  drawing 
jurors.  It  was  a  perfectly  absurd  quibble,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  so  I  put  him  on  trial 
again,  and,  avoiding  the  previous  pitfall,  obtained 
another  conviction.  Did  it  stand?  It  did  not. 
The  jury  had  agreed  late  at  night,  and  the  judge 
had  ordered  them  to  render  a  sealed  verdict  which 
the  foreman  had  recorded  in  due  form,  except  that 
he  had  written  that  the  prisoner  was  guilty  of 
murder  in  the  first  decree  instead  of  the  first  de- 
gree. That  was  Dunham's  chance,  and,  with  the 
aid  of  his  old  reliable  dictionary  and  the  learned 
reviewing  court,  his  client  received  a  new  lease  of 
life  and  another  new  trial. 

"New  trials  for  old  was  the  order  of  the  day 
with  me  now,  so  I  was  rather  surprised  to  get 
through  two  appeals  after  the  next  conviction 

25 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

without  mishap.  But  the  Court  of  last  resort 
came  to  Denslow's  rescue  just  in  the  nick  of  time 
with  an  opinion  declaring  that  the  judge  who  sen- 
tenced the  prisoner  had  erred  in  failing  to  ask 
him  the  formal  question  as  to  whether  or  not  he 
knew  of  any  reason  why  sentence  should  not  be 
pronounced  against  him.  .  .  .  I  '11  show  you  that 
masterpiece  of  judicial  erudition  some  day,  if  you 
have  n't  already  come  across  it  in  the  books. 

"Well,  practice  makes  perfect,  and  the  next 
time  I  brought  my  man  before  a  jury  I  sustained 
his  conviction  through  all  the  courts,  and  the  day 
set  for  his  execution  was  just  five  years  after  the 
commission  of  his  crime,  which  up  to  that  date 
had  cost  the  State  nearly  twenty  thousand  dol- 
lars." 

"I  know  another  case  that  took  even  longer 
than  that,"  observed  one  of  the  audience,  as  Poin- 
der  paused. 

"Of  course  you  do,"  he  admitted.  "The  law 
books  of  this  country  are  filled  with  them.  But 
you  won't  find  the  climax  of  this  case  in  the 
records,  my  friend." 

"Don't  get  alarmed,  Bigelow,"  admonished 
26 


THE  PEOPLE  VS.  DENSLOW 

Foster,  addressing  the  interrupter.  "This  story 

does  n't  infringe  on  any  of  yours.  Did  n't  you 

hear  Dick  say  there  was  a  point  to  it*?     Go  on, 
Poinder." 


CHAPTER  III 

NEWLY   DISCOVERED   EVIDENCE 

"I  would  rather  be  eaten  to  death  with  rust  than  be 
scoured  to  nothing  by  perpetual  motion." 

Henry  IV. 

' pERHAPS  I  needn't  tell  you  that  long  be- 
A  fore  I  convicted  his  client  for  the  fourth 
time  Dunham  and  I  had  become  pretty  bitter 
enemies,"  continued  Poinder  as  the  laughter 
subsided.  "I  don't  believe  I  'd  spoken  a  word 
to  him  outside  the  court-room  for  three  years,  and 
my  office  associates,  who  had  begun  by  joking  me 
about  the  case,  had  ended  by  sympathizing  with 
me  and  sharing  my  feeling  toward  the  Resurrec- 
tionist. The  final  decision  of  our  highest  courts 
was  accordingly  welcomed  as  an  office  triumph, 
and  I  was  congratulated  accordingly.  But  the 
congratulations  were  premature. 

"It  was  about  this  time  that  electrocution  was 
substituted  for  hanging  in  our  State,  and  Dunham 

28 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

appealed  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States  on  the  ground  that  the  new  law  violated  the 
Constitution.  No  one  supposed  that  that  tribunal 
would  interfere,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  made 
such  short  work  of  the  contention  that  Denslow 
merely  gained  a  few  months'  respite.  There  was 
then  only  one  move  left  for  his  counsel,  and  of 
course  he  took  it  by  petitioning  the  Governor  for 
clemency  on  behalf  of  his  client.  But  I  knew 
that  if  the  Executive  interfered  to  save  that  cold- 
blooded murderer  he  might  as  well  sign  a  com- 
mutation in  blank  for  all  assassins,  and  I  had  no 
fear  of  the  result.  Nevertheless,  it  was  not  until 
I  filed  away  his  brief  memorandum  denying  the 
petition  that  I  regarded  the  case  of  People  vs. 
Denslow  as  officially  closed,  and  felt  justified  in 
dismissing  it  from  my  mind." 

"I  should  think  you  'd  have  nicknamed  Dun- 
ham the  Obstructionist  instead  of  the  Resurrec- 
tionist," observed  Foster. 

"Well,  we  might,"  resumed  Poinder,  "if  he  'd 
displayed  nothing  more  than  commonplace  jug- 
glery with  the  law.  But  though  Denslow  was, 
figuratively  speaking,  at  the  end  of  his  rope,  his 

29 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

lawyer  was  n't,  and  a  few  days  before  the  date 
set  for  Buck's  execution  this  was  impressed  on 
my  mind  in  a  really  startling  fashion. 

"I  had  arrived  at  my  office  somewhat  earlier 
in  the  morning  than  usual,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  a  visitor  already  waiting  for  me  in  the  ante- 
room, who  introduced  himself  as  Dr.  Emile  At- 
wood.  He  's  dead  now — God  rest  his  soul ! — 
but  that  was  n't  his  right  name,  and  I  'm  not  go- 
ing to  tell  you  what  it  really  was.  Naturally,  the 
name  he  used  suggested  nothing  to  me,  but  he  ap- 
peared to  be  a  highly  intelligent,  cultured  gentle- 
man, and  I  begged  him  to  state  his  business,  which 
he  did  by  remarking  that  he  had  called  to  talk 
about  the  case  of  Buck  Denslow. 

"  'Good  Lord."  I  exclaimed.  'I  thought  I  was 
through  with  that  case.  Well,  what  about 
it?' 

"  'I  want  to  ask  you/  he  inquired,  'if  there  is 
still  any  chance  of  a  reprieve  or  commutation  of 
Denslow's  sentence?' 

"  'Certainly  not,'  I  replied.  'He  ought  to  have 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  crime  five  years  ago.  He 
and  his  lawyer  have  cost  the  State  nearly  twenty 

3° 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

thousand  dollars  already,  and  I  think  it 's  about 
time  they  stopped  cheating  the  law  at  the  public's 
expense.' 

"  'The  defense  has  been  quite  as  costly,'  he  ob- 
served, reflectively. 

"  'Nonsense !'  I  retorted.  'Denslow  has  n't  a 
cent  and  Dunham  has  spent  comparatively 
little.' 

"  'He  's  spent  nothing,'  he  replied.  'But  still, 
if  it  is  any  satisfaction  to  the  State  to  know  it,  the 
defense  has  been  costly.  I  know  it,  because  I 
supplied  the  funds  myself.' 

"There  was  a  time  in  my  professional  career 
when  that  reply  would  have  astonished  me,  but 
I  had  long  since  schooled  myself  against  sur- 
prise. 

"  'I  see,'  I  responded,  quietly.  'You  thought 
Buck  innocent?' 

"  'On  the  contrary,'  he  replied  with  equal  calm- 
ness, 'I  knew  he  was  guilty.  A  more  contempt- 
ible murderer  never  lived.' 

"  'Then  why,  in  the  name  of  common  sense, 
my  dear  sir,  did  you  spend  money  to  defend  him?' 
I  demanded. 

31 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"  'Merely  to  appease  my  conscience,'  he  replied. 
'I  killed  Ben  Limond  myself.' 

"All  my  years  of  training  were  not  proof 
against  the  exclamation  of  incredulity  that  escaped 
me.  And  yet  there  was  something  in  the  doctor's 
hard,  matter-of-fact  tone — something  in  the  way 
he  looked  at  me  as  he  removed  his  glasses  and 
calmly  polished  the  lenses  in  his  handkerchief — 
which  convinced  me  that  he  believed  he  was  speak- 
ing the  truth. 

"  'You  must  be  out  of  your  mind !'  I  asserted. 
'Denslow  and  nobody  but  Denslow  killed  Limond. 
There  were  two  eye-witnesses  of  the  murder.  No 
less  than  four  juries  have  convicted  the  man  of 
that  crime.  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean  by 
saying  you  are  guilty  of  it*?' 

"The  doctor  readjusted  his  glasses  and  settled 
back  in  his  chair. 

"  'I  have  no  wish  to  be  melodramatic,'  he  ob- 
served, dispassionately.  'I  hate  all  posing  of  that 
sort,  and  the  facts  are  very  simple.' 

"I  did  not  trust  myself  to  speak,  but  merely 
nodded  approvingly. 

"  'Limond  was  brought  to  the  Emergency  Hos- 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

pital  where  I  was  the  visiting  surgeon  immediately 
after  Denslow  shot  him,'  he  explained,  in  the  cold 
professional  tone  of  statement.  'He  was  not 
dead,  but  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  his  wound  was 
probably  fatal.  However,  the  proper  thing  to  do 
was  to  attempt  an  operation,  and  he  was  put  un- 
der ether  at  once.  It  seemed  a  hopeless  task,  but 
as  I  worked  the  thought  crossed  my  mind  that 
here  was  a  magnificent  opportunity  for  an  experi- 
ment I  had  long  desired  to  make  in  an  operation 
of  this  kind  but  had  never  quite  dared  risk. 
There  was  no  time  to  debate  the  question  of  pro- 
fessional ethics  or  legal  responsibility — the  temp- 
tation was  overwhelming,  and  I  simply  could  not 
resist  it.  All  I  wanted  to  do  I  could  effect  very 
quickly.  Moreover,  Denslow  was  virtually  mori- 
bund, and  my  greatest  fear  was  that  he  would  die 
before  I  could  make  my  experiment.  .  .  .  Well, 
he  must  have  been  even  nearer  death  than  I  sup- 
posed, for  his  life  went  out  under  my  instrument 
like  a  candle  under  one's  thumb  and  finger.' 

"The  doctor  paused  and  snapped  his  fingers  to- 
gether. 

"  'Just  like  that,'  he  commented,  musingly. 

33 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"I  stared  at  the  speaker  with  unfeigned  amaze- 
ment, wondering  whether  I  had  to  deal  with  a 
lunatic  or  a  sane  man.  He  speedily  resolved  my 
doubts,  however. 

"  'At  the  time  I  felt  no  compunction  whatso- 
ever for  my  act,'  he  continued.  'Limond  might 
have  lived  anywhere  from  an  hour  to  a  day  had  I 
not  interfered,  but  no  longer.  I  did  not,  in  any 
real  sense,  feel  guilty  of  his  death.  Indeed,  what 
I  did  was  such  a  slight  matter  that  the  coroner  en- 
tirely overlooked  it,  and  it  was  not  until  a  few 
weeks  later,  when  an  operation  successfully  per- 
formed on  a  similar  case  showed  me  just  where  I 
had  made  my  mistake,  that  I  gave  the  matter  any 
further  thought.  Then,  of  course,  I  began  to  be 
disturbed  by  the  situation.  Perhaps  I  would 
have  done  better  had  I  sought  the  advice  of  some 
lawyer.  But  I  did  not.  I  thought  the  whole 
thing  out  for  myself.  If  I  confessed  exactly 
what  had  happened  at  the  hospital,  I  fancied  that 
I  might  be  indicted  as  a  criminal  and  I  knew  my 
reputation  would  be  ruined,  and  I  was  just  on  the 
threshold  of  a  highly  successful  career.  Had 
there  been  the  slightest  doubt  of  Denslow's  guilt 

34 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

I  would  not  have  hesitated  a  moment  to  sacrifice 
myself.  But,  as  you  know,  the  man  was  a  cow- 
ardly murderer,  richly  deserving  his  fate.  It 
was  madness  to  think  of  blighting  all  my  pros- 
pects in  his  behalf.  Nevertheless,  the  matter 
preyed  upon  me,  and  I  finally  compromised  with 
my  conscience  by  secretly  furnishing  Denslow 
with  the  means  of  retaining  Dunham  and  indi- 
rectly supplying  him  with  funds  to  keep  up  the 
fight  in  the  hope  that  he  would  find  some  way  of 
at  least  saving  his  client's  neck.  That  was  all  I 
wanted.  But  I  now  see  that  he  has  merely  suc- 
ceeded in  making  a  mockery  of  the  law,  and  money 
out  of  me.' 

"You  may  imagine  with  what  feelings  I  lis- 
tened to  this  extraordinary  statement,  but  despite 
my  exasperation  and  disgust  I  could  not  but  feel 
some  sympathy  for  the  fellow.  When  I  spoke, 
however,  my  tone  was  brutally  harsh  and  forbid- 
ding. 

"  'Well,  why  do  you  consult  me,  Doctor*?'  I  de- 
manded. 

"  'To  ascertain  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do, 
short  of  a  confession,  to  save  Denslow's  life,'  he 

35 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

answered,  suavely.  'You  are  the  public  prosecu- 
tor in  this  case.  Perhaps  if  you  made  the  proper 
representations  to  the  Governor  he  would  com- 
mute the  sentence.' 

"  1  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  sir,'  I  retorted, 
sternly.  'You'd  better  get  your  full  money's 
worth  out  of  your  friend  Dunham  and  go  to  him 
for  advice.' 

"  'That  will  not  be  necessary,'  he  asserted,  com- 
placently. 'I  have  laid  the  facts  before  the  pub- 
lic authorities.  If  they  do  not  choose  to  act  upon 
them,  that  proves  that  they  think  the  law  should 
be  allowed  to  take  its  course  and  shows  me  that  I 
have  given  myself  a  vast  deal  of  unnecessary 
anxiety  and  expense  for  nothing.  In  any  event,  I 
wash  my  hands  of  all  further  responsibility  in  the 
matter,  and  wish  you  good-morning,  sir.' ' 

"Well,  that  fellow  was  certainly  a  cool  prop- 
osition," commented  Brundage.  "What  the 
dickens  did  you  < do,  Poinder?" 

"What  could  I  do,  Tom1?  As  a  prosecuting 
official,  you  know  I  couldn't  suppress  the  facts; 
and  as  a  man  and  a  lawyer,  you  know  that  they 

36 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

did  n't  really  affect  the  question  of  Denslow's 
guilt  at  all.  He  and  not  the  doctor  really  killed 
Limond.  Oh,  of  course  I  know  there  are  de- 
cisions freeing  murderers  because  the  surgeons  who 
sought  to  save  their  victims  were  careless  or  in- 
competent, and  I  was  equally  well  aware  that  all 
that  bad  law  would  be  grist  to  Dunham's  mill; 
for  what  has  fooled  judges  can  be  used  to  fool 
juries.  However,  there  was  no  escape,  and  I 
actually  had  to  supply  the  fellow  with  the  am- 
munition for  demanding  another  trial  on  the 
ground  of  this  newly  discovered  evidence.  In- 
deed, I  've  always  thought  it  must  have  been  this 
humiliating  duty  that  precipitated  the  nervous 
breakdown  which  incapacitated  me  for  the  next 
twelvemonth.  Anyway,  when  I  recovered  and 
returned  to  the  office  the  People  vs.  Dens  low 
gave  me  no  further  concern.  In  my  absence  it 
had  been  turned  over  to  one  of  the  most  hopeless 
blunderers  on  our  office  staff,  who  permitted  one 
of  his  eye-witnesses  to  be  smuggled  out  of  the 
State  under  his  very  nose,  and  got  his  whole  case 
so  side-tracked  that  before  it  was  reached  the  other 
eye-witness  died.  You  can  fancy  what  kind  of 

37 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

a  showing  he  made  on  the  trial  against  Dunham 
and  his  corps  of  surgical  experts.  No  wonder 
the  jury  acquitted  the  innocent  Buck!" 

"Gee  whiz!"  ejaculated  Eph  Bisland.  "Got 
off  scott  free  after  all!  Eh?" 

"Yes,  as  far  as  the  law  was  concerned,"  drawled 
Poinder.  "But  one  of  Limond's  friends  shot  him 
the  day  he  left  the  jail,  and  the  police  never 
caught  his  executioner." 

"And  this  is  a  government  of  law!"  muttered 
Gedney. 

"No,  sir — of  lawyers,"  laughed  Brundage. 

The  little  man  rose  to  his  full  height  and 
glared  angrily  at  the  speaker. 

"You  laugh,  sir!"  he  burst  forth,  fairly  trem- 
bling with  rage.  "You  dare  to  laugh  at  such 
mockeries  of  justice!  It  is  infamous,  sir!  It  is 
downright  infamous  that  a  public  officer  of  the 
law  should  treat  such  scandalous  outrages  as  a 
joke,  and  consent  to  giggle  at  evils  that  are  under- 
mining our  government,  debauching  our  con- 
sciences, and  shaming  us  before  our  neighbors  and 

38 


NEWLY  DISCOVERED  EVIDENCE 

the  world.  Sir,  your  imbecile  laugh  will  sound 
the  doom  of  this  country — if — " 

"Come,  come,  Mr.  Gedney,"  interrupted  Poin- 
der,  soothingly.  "You  must  n't  get  excited. 
We  've  got  a  hard  day  before  us  to-morrow,  and 
you  and  I  must  go  up  stairs  to  prepare  for  it. 
Brundage  and  I  will  discuss  the  whole  subject 
with  you  dispassionately  some  other  day,  won't 
we,  Tom?" 

The  Prosecutor  nodded  understandingly. 

"Certainly,"  he  responded;  "and  I  sympathize 
with  your  views  more  than  you  suspect,  Mr.  Ged- 
ney," he  added,  soberly.  "Good-night,  sir." 

"Good-night." 

The  little  man  was  already  on  his  way  toward 
his  room  as  Brundage  spoke,  and  his  response  was 
uttered  without  turning  his  head,  as,  accompanied 
by  his  counsel,  he  mounted  the  creaking  stairs. 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  dead  silence  in  the 
lobby,  its  occupants  apparently  listening  to  the 
sound  of  the  retreating  footsteps.  Then  the  front 
door  opened  and  young  Hixon,  knocking  the  snow 
off  his  shoes,  resumed  his  seat  in  the  circle. 

39 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"  Where  's  Poinder  and  Gedney'?"  he  inquired, 
glancing  about  him. 

"They  've  gone  up  stairs,"  answered  Brundage. 
"Their  case  goes  on  to-morrow,  you  know." 

"I  bet  it  does  n't,"  asserted  Hixon.  "Wit- 
nesses -  in -the -case -of -the -Supply -Company- vs.  - 
Gedney-will-return-to-the-court  this  year — next 
year — sometime — never!"  he  chanted.  "The 
Supply  people  have  retained  Poinder's  friend  the 
Resurrectionist.  That 's  what  he  's  in  Belo  for. 
Wow !  What  a  pleasant  little  surprise  for  Poin- 
der! And,  say,  Pete,  I  guess  you  'd  better  get  a 
padded  cell  ready  for  Gedney!  .  .  .  Shut  up 
yourself,  Brundage !  I  '11  talk  just  as  much  as  I 
like!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR 

"It  pleases  time  and  fortune  to  lie  heavy 
Upon  a  friend  of  mine  who,  in  hot  blood, 
Hath  stept  into  the  law,  which  is  past  depth 
To  those  that,  without  heed,  do  plunge  in 

Timon  of  Athens. 

AT  its  best  the  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House  could 
not  be  truthfully  described  as  cozy.  On 
winter  evenings,  with  the  visiting  court  crowd 
seated  around  the  old  wood  stove,  it  was  cheery, 
but  warmth  was  about  the  only  comfort  it  sup- 
plied. The  memory  of  those  joyous  occasions, 
however,  so  completely  transfigured  it  in  the  eyes 
of  its  devotees  that  they  would  probably  have  re- 
sented the  introduction  of  modem  improvements 
had  their  host  been  inclined  to  such  sacrilege. 
But  Old  Man  Reeve  had  apparently  never  con- 
templated any  change  in  the  severe  simplicity  of 
his  private  forum  since  the  day  he  had  hung  the 

41 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

framed  lithograph  of  the  Bar  of  Fraser  County  to 
one  of  its  yellowing  walls,  and  that  lone  effort  at 
adornment  was  beyond  the  recollection  of  most  of 
those  who  now  attended  the  sessions  of  the  Cir- 
cuit Court  at  Belo. 

But,  bare  and  uninviting  as  the  lobby  usually 
was,  it  never  seemed  quite  so  hopelessly  crude  or 
so  shamelessly  dilapidated  as  it  did  when  the  first 
light  of  dawn  streaked  through  its  shop-like  win- 
dows, revealing  the  "clothes-pole"  columns  sup- 
porting the  papered  ceiling,  the  dead  stove  pow- 
dered with  ashes,  the  mournful  circle  of  empty 
chairs,  the  displaced  tables,  the  scattered  trunks, 
the  unswept  floor,  and  all  its  other  uglinesses 
in  the  disarray  of  recent  occupation.  Fortunately, 
the  only  person  subjected  to  the  depressing  influ- 
ence of  the  place  at  that  gray  hour  was  usually 
proof  against  it,  for  Zeb  Turner,  the  fire-maker 
and  handy  man  of  the  Reeve  House,  was  a  cheer- 
ful youth  who  generally  whistled  as  he  worked. 
On  the  morning  appointed  for  the  trial  of  Ged- 
ney's  case,  however,  Zeb  was  not  in  his  happiest 
mood,  for  he  had  sat  up  until  nearly  twelve  o'clock 
the  night  before  listening  to  the  lawyers  discuss 

42 


THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR 

the  exciting  possibilities  of  the  impending  legal 
battle,  and  had  risen  earlier  than  usual  with  the 
idea  of  finishing  his  tasks  in  time  to  witness  the 
coming  fray.  It  was  probably  his  loss  of  sleep, 
therefore,  combined  with  the  raw  chill  of  the 
morning  air,  that  dampened  his  normally  buoyant 
spirits  and  toned  his  whistle  to  a  minor  key. 
Certainly  the  sound  of  the  drizzling  rain  on  the 
moist-screened  window-panes,  the  wintry  black- 
ness of  the  sky,  and  the  stale  atmosphere  of  the 
lobby  were  depressing  enough  to  lower  any  one's 
vitality;  but  as  the  boy  paused,  shivering  and 
yawning,  on  the  threshold,  he  was  conscious  of  an 
uncomfortable  feeling  that  could  not  be  attributed 
to  his  dismal  surroundings.  For  a  few  moments 
he  was  utterly  unable  to  fathom  his  sensations, 
and  then  it  gradually  dawned  upon  him  that  he 
was  afraid — afraid  that  the  room  which  ought  to 
have  been  vacant  was  inhabited,  and  that  some- 
where in  the  darkness  something  or  somebody  was 
watching  his  every  movement.  As  if  in  response 
to  this  dread  impression,  he  tiptoed  across  the  floor, 
his  rubber  boots  making  little  or  no  sound,  and 
paused  near  the  office  desk  in  a  listening  attitude. 

43 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Hearing  nothing,  he  noiselessly  opened  the  stove 
door,  deposited  his  bundle  of  paper  and  kindling, 
and  peered  apprehensively  into  the  gloom  as  he 
fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  a  match.  When  he 
found  it,  however,  instead  of  striking  it  as  usual 
on  the  metal  floor-shield  at  his  feet,  he  stroked  it 
cautiously  against  the  inner  lapel  of  his  coat,  and, 
shading  the  smoldering  stick  with  his  hand,  raised 
it  above  his  head.  For  a  second  or  two  the  glow 
of  the  burning  sulphur  only  served  to  intensify 
the  darkness,  but  as  the  wood  caught  fire  big 
shadows  began  to  dance  upon  the  walls,  and  in 
the  flickering  light  Zeb  saw  something  that  held 
him  open-mouthed  and  staring.  Behind  one  of 
the  writing-tables  at  the  far  side  of  the  room  stood 
a  small,  gray-haired  man  attired  in  his  night 
clothes  and  dressing-gown,  nervously  arranging 
bundles  of  papers  and  packages  of  books,  first  on 
one  side  of  the  table  and  then  on  the  other,  his 
hands  trembling  with  excitement,  his  head  vibrat- 
ing as  with  palsy,  his  mouth  set  in  a  hideously  in- 
gratiating grin,  and  his  eyes  wide  open  but  as  un- 
seeing as  the  blind. 

44 


THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR 

The  match  in  the  boy's  hands  scorched  his  fin- 
gers before  he  dropped  it,  blotting  out  the  startling 
figure,  but  he  continued  to  stare  in  its  direction 
as  he  crouched  and,  groping  behind  him  for  his 
lantern,  drew  it  to  him  and  lighted  it  solely  by 
the  sense  of  touch.  Then  he  raised  it  above  his 
head,  and  its  glow  apparently  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  man  behind  the  table,  for  he  turned  to- 
ward it,  glaring  savagely  like  a  hunted  animal  and 
shielding  his  litter  of  books  and  papers  with  out- 
spread arms.  Then  he  suddenly  turned  away 
with  a  snarl  and  recommenced  the  hurried,  nerv- 
ous shifting  of  his  documents.  One  glance  had 
been  sufficient  for  Zeb  to  identify  the  man,  and, 
with  a  half-suppressed  exclamation  of  alarm,  he 
swung  on  his  heel  and,  dashing  up  stairs,  ham- 
mered at  the  nearest  bedroom  door,  which 
promptly  opened,  disclosing  Old  Man  Reeve 
partly  dressed  and  apparently  in  the  act  of  shav- 
ing. 

"Hello,  Zeb !"  he  drawled.  "What 's  the  mat- 
ter with  you1?  House  on  fire,  or  what?" 

"Matter  enough,  Pete !"  panted  the  boy.  "Old 
45 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Mr.  Gedney  's  down  stairs  in  his  nightshirt  fussin' 
with  his  books  and  papers,  and  actin'  that  wild 
he 's  got  me  'most  scared  to  death." 

Startling  as  the  information  was,  it  did  not  dis- 
turb the  serenity  of  Peter  Reeve's  round,  good- 
natured  face. 

"Sho!"  he  muttered,  musingly.  "I  kinder 
thought  they'd  git  Dave  all  worked  up  'fore 
they  wuz  through  last  night.  But  there  ain't  no 
sense  in  gittin'  flustered  'bout  it.  He  's  proba- 
bly walkin'  in  his  sleep  and  dreamin'  his  case  is 
being  tried.  I  '11  go  down  and  'tend  to  him  just 
soon 's  I  kin  git  my  clothes  on.  Meanwhile  you 
go  and  rout  out  Lawyer  Poinder,  but  don't  raise 
the  hull  house  doin'  it.  Understand?  Then 
jump,  son!" 

The  boy  sped  down  the  narrow  hallway  and 
the  hotel  proprietor  re-entered  his  room,  emerg- 
ing again  just  as  Zeb  hove  in  sight,  followed  by 
a  tall,  keen-faced,  clean-shaven  man,  slightly  be- 
yond middle  age,  alert  and  active  in  every  move- 
ment. 

"Well?  More  trouble,  Pete?"  he  queried,  as 
he  greeted  his  host. 


THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"Reckon  not,  Mr.  Poinder,"  he  answered. 
"How  'n  thunder  you  git  dressed  so  quick?" 

"By  not  having  undressed,  Pete.  When  our 
friends  the  enemy  retain  a  fellow  like  the  Resur- 
rectionist over  night,  it 's  well  to  do  some  think- 
ing before  morning,  so — " 

"Dave  's  been  thinkin'  too,"  interrupted  Reeve 
with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb  toward  the  lobby. 
"You  and  him  '11  both  be  in  slings  ef  you  don't 
stop  your  fool  thinkin'.  Let 's  go  down  and  git 
him  to  bed.  Hush ! — Wait !  He  's  comin'." 

"Don't  wake  him,  Pete,  if  he  's  asleep,"  warned 
the  attorney.  "It 's  sometimes  dangerous. 
Cover  your  lantern  quick,  Zeb!  .  .  .  Now  step 
over  here.  .  .  .  No!  More  into  the  shadow. 
.  .  .  That 's  right !  Now  don't  speak  or  move. 
I  '11  do  whatever  's  necessary." 

Mr.  Gedney  had  already  reached  the  first  land- 
ing as  the  lawyer  whispered  his  instructions,  and 
in  another  moment  he  appeared  at  the  head  of  the 
staircase  and  paused,  panting  under  a  heavy  load 
of  books  and  papers.  All  trace  of  anger  had 
faded  from  his  face,  the  ugly,  set  grin  had  relaxed, 

47 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

and  his  whole  appearance  was  merely  that  of  an 
aged  man  wearied  to  the  verge  of  exhaustion. 
Indeed,  he  seemed  so  nearly  on  the  point  of  col- 
lapse as  he  stood  swaying  under  his  ponderous 
burden  that  Mr.  Poinder  instinctively  moved  for- 
ward to  his  support,  but  at  that  instant  his  client's 
lips  parted  with  a  tired,  twitching  movement. 

"  'The  top  of  the  calendar*  to  you>  sir,"  he 
whispered,  inclining  lite  head.  "A  happy — a 
most  happy  greeting.  ...  I  thank  you.  'The 
top  of  the  calendar'  to  you,  sir,  when  your  time 
comes.  ..." 

He  paused,  lurched  toward  his  counsel,  gazed 
at  him  for  a  moment  with  a  bewildered  stare  and 
then  with  slowly  dawning  recognition. 

"I  was  just  wondering  where  you  were,  Mr. 
Poinder,"  he  remarked  at  last  in  feeble,  trembling 
tones.  "I  'm  glad  to  see  you  're  still  up,  sir.  .  .  . 
There  are  one  or  two  things  that  have  worried  me 
in  these  books  and  papers.  .  .  .  Yes,  thank  you, 
if  you  don't  mind.  They  are  a  bit  heavy.  .  .  . 
And  I  feel  so  tired — more  tired  than  I  ever  was 
before.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  wish  you  would.  We  could 
talk  as  I  get  ready  for  bed,  and  there  are  one  or 


THE  TOP  OF  THE  CALENDAR 

two  things,  sir  ...  one  or  two  things  that  have 
worried  .  .  .  worried  me.  .  .  ." 

The  sound  of  his  voice  faded  away  as  he  moved 
down  the  hall,  and  Old  Man  Reeve,  answering 
Mr.  Poinder's  parting  signal,  laid  a  finger  on  his 
lips  and  motioned  Zeb  toward  the  stairs. 


CHAPTER  V 

WITHOUT    PREJUDICE 

"All  may  be  well ;  but  if  God  sort  it  so 
'T  is  more  than  we  deserve  or  I  expect." 

Richard  III. 

BREAKFAST  at  the  Reeve  House  was  always 
a  movable  feast  during  Circuit  week,  to  en- 
able those  having  business  with  the  Court  to  obtain 
an  early  start,  and  to  accommodate  those  who, 
merely  marking  time  with  Justice,  were  in  no 
hurry  to  begin  the  day.  On  the  morning  sched- 
uled for  Gedney's  case,  however,  the  dining-room 
was  uncomfortably  crowded  soon  after  the  rising 
gong,  and  Old  Man  Reeve,  hurrying  Zeb  to  rein- 
force the  kitchen,  took  a  hand  in  waiting  on  the 
guests  himself.  Even  then  the  service  was  any- 
thing but  rapid,  and  young  Corning,  watching  the 
clock  behind  ramparts  of  papers,  fumed  indig- 
nantly at  the  delay. 

50 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

"Well,  what  difference  does  it  make  to  you, 
Corning*?"  demanded  Brundage.  "Your  case 
can't  be  tried  to-day.  In  fact,  you  '11  be  lucky 
if  you  're  reached  this  term  with  Poinder,  Peck, 
and  his  friend  Dunham  on  deck." 

"Yes,  and  if  their  case  does  n't  go  on,  the  whole 
calendar  will  break,"  grumbled  the  novice.  "I  've 
seen  that  happen  before,  and  I  intend  to  be  ready 
if  I  have  to  go  without  my  breakfast." 

"There  are  cakes  this  morning,  my  son,"  ad- 
monished Foster,  "and  if  you  sit  here  eating  them 
until  your  case  is  reached  you  '11  have  some  weight 
with  the  Court,  for  I  happen  to  know  that  the 
Supply  people  have  got  to  give  Gedney  a  trial  this 
morning  whether  they  want  to  or  not." 

"Huh!"  scoffed  Corning.  "Wallace  Dunham 
is  in  the  game  now,  and  if  he  wants  an  adjourn- 
ment I  guess  he  '11  get  it." 

"No,  he  won't,  my  boy.  The  Judge  made 
Peck  stipulate  in  open  court  not  to  ask  any  more 
adjournments  before  he  gave  him  his  last  respite, 
and  he  won't  get  another." 

"Yes,  and  he  had  the  stenographer  note  the 
agreement,"  corroborated  Brundage.  "Peck  and 

51 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

his  crowd  can't  fool  Kinsley  any  longer.  By  the 
way,  Pete,"  he  continued,  as  Old  Man  Reeve 
backed  through  the  swing  door  bearing  a  heavily 
loaded  tray,  "where  was  his  Honor  last  night  ?" 

The  proprietor  slid  his  tray  over  the  edge  of 
the  table  and  began  distributing  the  plates  like  an 
expert  dealing  cards. 

"Beeksteak's  yourn,  ain't  it,  Mr.  Corning? 
Ham  and  eggs  for  Mr.  Mapes,  and  I  reckon  you 
never  tasted  better  ham  than  that,  sir.  Oatmeal  "? 
— who 's  oatmeal  ?  Here  you  are,  my  friend. 
What  did  you  say,  Mr.  Brundage?  Where  was 
the  Judge  last  night*?  Down  to  the  Forks 
'lectioneering — war  n't  he?" 

"Yes,"  interposed  Watkins,  "and  he  made  a 
ripping  good  speech,  too.  There  was  n't  an  inch 
of  skin  left  on  the  opposition  when  he  got  through 
with  'em.  He  said  Diogenes  would  n't  have  even 
waved  his  lantern  in  the  direction  of  that  crowd. 
He  'd  have  known  instinctively  that  there  was  n't 
an  honest  man  in  it." 

"That's  a  pleasant  sentiment  from  a  judge 
who  is  supposed  to  administer  impartial  justice," 
remarked  Mr.  Torrens,  one  of  the  few  laymen  at 

52 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

the  table.  "Fortunately  I  'm  of  his  party,  but  if 
I  was  n't  I  think  I  'd  ask  you  to  take  my  case  be- 
fore some  other  judge,  Mr.  Foster." 

"Oh,  that 's  just  stump-speech  humor,  Mr. 
Torrens,"  responded  the  attorney.  "Kinsley 
would  n't  let  political  differences  influence  him  on 
the  bench." 

"Well,  I  don't  like  a  judge  who  mixes  in  poli- 
tics. What 's  he  do  it  for?' 

"He 's  got  to,  I  reckon,"  chuckled  Reeve. 
"That 's  right,  Zeb.  Put  those  cakes  down  by 
Mr.  Corning  and  hurry  up  some  more  coffee. 
We  're  on  the  jump  this  mornin',  boy!" 

"Why  has  he  got  to,  Mr.  Reeve  ?' 

The  old  man,  pottering  about  the  busy  table, 
paused,  and,  mopping  his  face  with  his  apron, 
smiled  good-naturedly  at  his  questioner. 

"It 's  easy  to  see  you  ain't  had  any  time  for 
office-huntin',  Mr.  Torrens,"  he  remarked.  "If 
you  had  a  political  job — " 

"A  political  job!  Do  you  call  a  judgeship  a 
political  job?" 

"Sure.  Don't  you?"  laughed  the  old  man. 
"Reckon  you  would  if  you  was  on  the  bench  with 

53 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

the  primaries  close  at  hand  and  you  had  to  get  the 
nomination  in  order  to  live." 

"Well,  Judge  Kinsley  certainly  does  n't  need  it 
in  order  to  live,"  objected  the  merchant. 

"I  don't  know  'bout  that — eh,  boys'?"  responded 
his  host,  addressing  the  rest  of  the  table.  "The 
Judge  had  a  pretty  fair  clientage  when  he  went  on 
the  bench,  but  he  was  forty-five  then,  and  it 's  no 
joke  to  begin  practicin'  law  at  fifty-five,  without 
a  dollar  in  the  world  and  a  good-sized  family  to 
support.  Kinsley  knows  he  ain't  so  all-fired  pop- 
ular, and  he  's  gittin'  nervous.  The  slate  '11  be 
made  up  inside  of  a  month  now,  and  he  's  jist  gat 
to  be  on  it.  I  reckon  maybe  /  'd  stand  on  my  head 
and  wave  my  legs  in  the  air  onct  a  day  if  I  was 
in  his  boots." 

"Is  any  one  else  trying  for  the  nomination, 
Pete*?"  inquired  Brundage. 

The  proprietor  removed  his  spectacles  and, 
turning  toward  the  window,  carefully  inspected 
the  lenses. 

"Don't  ask  me,"  he  responded,  innocently. 

The  State's  Attorney  laughed. 

"Don't  ask  you — you  old  fraud !"  he  exclaimed. 
54 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

"If  there  's  any  political  slate  made  up  in  Fraser 
County  without  your  knowing  it,  I  'm  mightily 
mistaken.  Who  is  the  Judge  afraid  of,  Pete*?" 

The  old  man  smiled  and  began  polishing  his 
glasses. 

"I  don't  know  as  he  's  afraid  of  anybody  in 
particular,  Mr.  Brundage,"  he  responded  over  his 
shoulder.  "But  there  's  always  candidates  for  a 
good  job,  if  you  don't  crowd  'em  out,  and  Kins- 
ley 's  for  keepin'  his  elbows  spread." 

"Well,  the  whole  system  is  rottenly  wrong,  I 
say,"  interposed  Mr.  Torrens.  "Judges  ought  to 
be  appointed  for  life  or  during  good  behavior. 
That 's  the  only  way  to  place  them  beyond  the 
reach  of  politics  or  any  other  influence.  Eng- 
land had  to  learn  that,  and  her  judges  have  the 
entire  confidence  of  the  people.  Until  we  do 
something  like  that  in  this  country  we  '11  never 
have  a  proper  administration  of  justice." 

"Hope  you  '11  live  till  you  see  it,  sir,"  laughed 
Foster.  "Hello,  Poinder,"  he  continued,  as  Ged- 
ney's  counsel  appeared  at  the  door.  "All  primed 
and  loaded  for  the  Resurrectionist,  old  man*?" 

The  lawyer  smiled  and  waved  a  general  greet- 

55 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

ing  to  the  company,  as  he  took  his  place  at  the 
table. 

"Yes,  sir.  It'll  be  'stand  and  deliver'  this 
time,"  he  responded.  "By  the  way,  Pete,"  he 
continued,  "do  you  mind  sending  some  coffee  and 
toast  up  to  Mr.  Gedney?  He  doesn't  feel  like 
coming  down  to  breakfast.  Hello,  Brother  Corn- 
ing! What  are  you  doing  with  all  those  docu- 
ments'? You  look  as  though  you  were  going  to 
bury  your  opponents  with  papers." 

"I  am  if  you  don't  monopolize  the  court,"  re- 
sponded the  youth.  "Are  you  sure  your  case  will 
go  on,  sir?" 

"Sure  as  shooting." 

"How  long  will  you  take?" 

"Well,  the  facts  are  very  simple,  but  when  Dun- 
ham once  gets  started  it 's  hard  to  stop  him  short 
of  a  week." 

"Better  not  let  the  Judge  know  that,  Poinder," 
warned  Watkins. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  this  is  his  busy  season  down  at  the 
Forks.  He  cut  the  proceedings  pretty  short  yes- 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

terday  to  get  an  early  train,  and  I  imagine  he  can 
use  all  his  spare  time  between  now  and  election 
day." 

"By  the  way,"  inquired  Brundage,  "what 's 
your  friend  Dunham's  politics,  Dick*?" 

Mr.  Poinder  reached  forward  and  speared  a 
roll  with  his  fork. 

"Can't  you  guess,  Tom?"  he  responded. 
"You  don't  suppose  the  Supply  Company  would 
deliberately  retain  one  of  the  opposition  to  con- 
duct its  case  before  a  partisan  like  Kinsley1?  No, 
sir.  Dunham  professes  the  same  political  faith  as 
the  Judge,  and  he  used  to  stand  pretty  high  in  the 
inner  councils  of  his  party.  But,  fortunately,  it  Js 
our  party  too,  for  we  're  all  of  the  same  persuasion, 
so  there  won't  be  any  politics  in  this  case.  .  .  . 
What  say,  Corning*?"  he  continued,  as  the  young 
man  paused  beside  him  on  his  way  from  the  room. 
"Yes,  my  boy.  It 's  perfectly  safe  as  far  as  I  can 
see.  Let  your  witnesses  go  for  a  couple  of  days 
anyway,  and  then  you  can  judge  the  situation. 
.  .  .  Now,  Zeb,  don't  pay  any  attention  to  these 
gentlemen  of  leisure,  but  devote  yourself  exclu- 

57 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

sively  to  me.  Coffee,  oatmeal,  rolls,  beefsteak, 
bacon,  eggs,  and  cakes  will  do.  I  'm  nervous  and 
have  n't  any  appetite  this  morning." 

"Say,  Pete,  if  he  ever  gets  really  hungry,  make 
me  your  Receiver  in  Bankruptcy — will  you1?" 
drawled  Brundage,  rising  as  he  spoke. 

"On  the  principle  of  'After  me — the  Deluge?'  " 
suggested  Poinder. 

"Yes,  I  'm  afraid  there  '11  be  nothing  left  but 
water  after  you  're  satisfied,"  retorted  his  friend. 
"What  have  you  got  there,  Ellen*?"  he  continued, 
addressing  the  waitress.  "The  mail4?  Well, 
don't  let  Mr.  Poinder  see  it.  He  '11  mistake  the 
post-bag  for  a  nose-bag  and  eat  up  all  your  let- 
ters." 

The  State's  Attorney  slipped  from  the  room  as 
he  spoke,  and  his  victim  joined  in  the  general 
laugh,  as  Ellen,  giving  him  a  suspiciously  wide 
berth,  handed  the  mail-bag  to  her  employer. 

All  conversation  ceased  as  the  guests  became 
absorbed  in  their  letters,  and  Mr.  Poinder,  divid- 
ing his  attention  between  his  mail  and  his  break- 
fast, did  not  observe  that  the  others  had  left  the 
table  until  he  looked  up  and  found  "himself  alone 

58 


1  The  mail  ?     Well,  don't  let  Mr.  Poinder  see  it. 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

with  the  proprietor,  who  was  gazing  at  him  with  a 
curious  expression  on  his  face. 

"Well,  Pete,  what 's  the  matter1?"  he  inquired. 

The  old  man  ran  a  finger  around  the  inside  of 
his  collarless  shirt-band  as  though  it  was  choking 
him. 

"I  dunno  as  anything  is,  Mr.  Poinder,"  he  re- 
plied. "But  you  allowed  a  while  ago  that  there 
wuz  no  politics  in  my  old  friend  Gedney's  case. 
Did  you  really  mean  that1?" 

The  lawyer  nodded. 

"How  can  there  be*?"  he  queried.  "We  're  all 
of  the  same  party,  and  Kinsley  understands  the 
situation  thoroughly." 

"You  mean  he  knows  that  Dave  Gedney  will 
be  ruined  if  his  case  ain't  tried  this  term,"  assented 
the  veteran.  "But  if  it  is  tried,  maybe  the 
Judge's  chances  of  a  renomination  might  be  ruined. 
Have  you  thought  about  that1?" 

Mr.  Poinder  leaned  forward  on  the  table  and 
looked  squarely  into  the  speaker's  eyes. 

"Come,  Pete,"  he  began,  "what  are  you  driving 
at*?" 

"Can't  you  see  through  a  millstone  with  a  hole 
6l 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

in  it?"  growled  the  old  man.  "You  said  this  city 
fellow,  Wallace  Dunham,  was  a  pretty  active 
worker  in  politics,  and  we  know  he  came  here  yes- 
terday by  way  of  the  Forks.  Well,  how  do  you 
know  he  and  Peck  ain't  been  takin'  a  hand  in  lo- 
cal politics  for  their  client's  health?" 

The  lawyer  pushed  his  chair  back  and  threw 
up  his  hands  in  an  attitude  of  mock  despair. 

"Good  Lord,  Pete!  You  might  as  well  kill 
me  as  scare  me  to  death !"  he  exclaimed.  "You  're 
getting  as  nervous  as  Gedney  and  shying  at  shad- 
ows. Come  over  to  the  court  in  about  an  hour 
and  I  '11  show  you  that  there  is  n't  any  politics — 
or  anything  else  in  this  case.  I  've  met  the  Res- 
urrectionist before  and  know  all  his  little  tricks 
and  ways." 

Mr.  Poinder  gathered  up  his  letters  and  moved 
toward  the  door  as  he  spoke,  but  for  some  mo- 
ments the  old  man  remained  seated,  apparently 
lost  in  thought.  Then  he  slowly  rose  and  began 
clearing  the  table. 

"Ain't  no  politics  in  this  case — ain't  there?"  he 
muttered  to  himself.  "Well,  if  there  ain't,  it  '11 
be  the  first  good  chance  I  've  seen  missed  in  Eraser 

62 


WITHOUT  PREJUDICE 

County  since  I  've  been  in  the  game,  and  I  've 
been  in  it  a  pretty  long  time.  A  pretty — long — 
time." 


CHAPTER  VI 

TAKEN    BY   SURPRISE 

"Expect  the  unexpected  and  cultivate  resourceful- 
ness if  you  would  not  fear  surprise." 

Axioms  of  Strategy. 

ON  fine  mornings  the  approach  to  the  court- 
house was  almost  as  popular  a  resort  for  the 
legal  fraternity  as  the  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House 
was  at  night.  But  when  Peter  Reeve  emerged 
from  the  dining-room,  umbrella  in  hand,  and 
gazed  out  of  the  rain-splashed  windows  of  the 
empty  lobby,  he  found  the  village  green  almost 
equally  deserted.  Evidently  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather  and  the  demand  for  seats  had  driven 
the  crowd  to  seek  an  early  shelter  in  the  little  one- 
story  brick  building  which  housed  the  Circuit 
Court.  So,  after  studying  the  dismal  prospect  for 
a  while,  the  proprietor  walked  slowly  back  to  the 
office  desk,  laid  aside  his  umbrella,  and,  entering 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

his  private  room,  seated  himself  before  the  tele- 
phone. For  a  few  moments  he  sat  with  his  hand 
resting  idly  on  the  instrument,  and  then,  lifting 
the  receiver,  called  up  a  number  in  Crosby's  Forks, 
and,  partially  closing  his  door,  began  a  low-toned 
talk.  Then  in  rapid  succession  he  rang  up  other 
local  numbers,  holding  a  brief,  spirited  conversa- 
tion with  each  of  those  who  answered  his  call,  and 
he  was  still  busy  on  the  wire  when  the  sound  of  a 
neighboring  church  clock  warned  him  to  mutter  a 
hasty  good-by  and  sent  him  hurrying  toward  the 
court. 

Every  seat  in  the  bare,  low-ceilinged  room  was 
occupied  as  he  pushed  pantingly  through  the  doors, 
but  Mr.  Brundage  secured  a  place  for  him  by  dis- 
lodging a  clerk.  The  Judge  was  not  yet  upon  the 
bench,  but  at  the  counsel's  table  sat  Mr.  Poinder, 
David  Gedney,  and  his  son,  with  half  a  dozen  wit- 
nesses behind  them,  and  a  great  mass  of  books  and 
papers  methodically  arranged  on  the  table  for  im- 
mediate use.  Peter  Reeve  gazed  closely  at  his  old 
friend,  but  Gedney  was  apparently  none  the  worse 
for  his  night's  experience,  and  as  he  sat  chatting 
unconcernedly  with  his  counsel  he  seemed  to  be  in 

65 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

better  spirits  than  most  of  those  about  him.  In- 
deed, the  audience,  as  a  whole,  appeared  strangely 
ill  at  ease.  Ordinarily  the  court- room  -fairly 
hummed  with  conversation,  but  now  there  was 
scarcely  a  whisper  to  be  heard,  and  the  spectators 
fidgeted  in  their  seats,  constantly  turning  with  ex- 
pectant glances  toward  the  door.  For  a  time  the 
host  of  the  Reeve  House  attributed  this  strained 
atmosphere  to  the  tardiness  of  the  Judge,  but  as  he 
scanned  the  room  more  closely  he  suddenly  real- 
ized what  was  troubling  its  occupants,  and  plucked 
Mr.  Brundage  by  the  sleeve. 

"Where's  the  Supply  Company  people*?"  he 
whispered. 

The  State's  Attorney  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

The  old  man  stared  at  him  with  open-mouthed 
astonishment. 

"Ain't  Lawyer  Peck  nor  the  Dunham  man 
turned  up  yet1?"  he  demanded. 

"Not  a  sign  of  them,"  answered  Brundage. 
"I  guess  Brother  Dunham  is  n't  used  to  our  early 
country  hours,  and  the  Judge  is  arranging  things 
to  suit  him.  These  delicate  compliments  to  city 
counsel  are  all  right,  I  suppose,  but  we  ought  to  be 

66 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

warned  of  them  beforehand.     I  could  have  slept 
another  hour  this  morning  and — " 

A  general  movement  in  the  rear  of  the  room  in- 
terrupted the  speaker,  and,  turning,  he  observed 
the  subject  of  his  remarks  entering  the  door,  pre- 
ceded by  Mr.  Artemus  Peck.  Wallace  Dun- 
ham's huge  form  appeared  even  more  bulky  in  the 
little  court-room  than  it  had  in  the  hotel  lobby 
on  the  previous  evening;  and  his  high  silk  hat, 
fur-lined  overcoat,  and  chamois  gloves  created 
an  even  greater  sensation.  He  seemed  perfectly 
at  home,  however,  and,  passing  directly  to  the 
counsel's  table,  recognized  Mr.  Poinder,  who  rose 
to  greet  him.  As  the  two  opponents  stood  con- 
versing, the  spectators  watched  them  with  silent 
fascination,  as  though  momentarily  expecting 
some  dramatic  development.  But  when  the 
court  crier,  rapping  for  order  on  the  panels  of  the 
bench,  announced  the  advent  of  the  Judge,  there 
was  an  audible  relaxing  of  the  tension.  Some 
one  hastily  provided  chairs  for  the  distinguished 
counsel  and  his  associate,  and  the  room  was 
again  hushed  as  the  Hon.  Jacob  Kinsley  emerged 
from  his  chambers.  Wallace  Dunham  was  the 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

only  person  who  rose  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Judge,  for  Eraser  County  was  not  accustomed  to 
even  the  most  ordinary  exhibitions  of  deference 
for  the  Bench. 

Indeed,  the  action  of  the  visiting  jurist  oc- 
casioned a  titter  throughout  the  court-room,  and 
the  Judge,  visibly  embarrassed,  mumbled  his  cus- 
tomary greeting  to  the  audience  more  rapidly  than 
usual,  and  straightway  plunged  into  the  business 
of  the  calendar. 

"No.  i.  The  Farm  Supply  Company  against 
Gedney." 

"Ready!" 

There  was  a  note  of  challenge  in  Richard  Poin- 
defs  voice  as  he  ripped  out  his  response,  but  there 
was  no  answering  expression  on  Dunham's  hard 
face  as  he  rose  to  reply. 

"If  the  Court  please,"  he  began,  with  pomp- 
ous deliberation.  "My  associate  informs  me 
that  he  is  precluded  by  a  stipulation  from  asking 
an  adjournment  of  this  case.  But  before  we 
proceed  I  venture  to  crave  the  indulgence  of 
your  Honor  for  a  moment.  I  was  retained  for 
the  plaintiff  by  telegraph  yesterday;  started  for 

68 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

Belo  within  two  hours;  arrived  here  last  evening, 
and  have  been  in  consultation  with  my  associate 
ever  since.  I  realize,  however,  that  your  Honor 
would  not  be  justified  in  showing  us  any  consid- 
eration on  that  account,  and  it  is  not  as  counsel 
for  the  plaintiff  that  I  obtrude  the  facts  that  I 
have  mentioned  upon  your  Honor's  attention. 
It  is  rather  as  a  friend  of  the  Court  and  in  the 
interests  of  justice  that  I  speak,  because  al- 
though I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  make  a 
thorough  examination  into  the  facts  of  this  case, 
I  have  learned  enough  to  convince  me  that  a 
settlement  is  the  only  proper  solution  of  the  con- 
troversy, and  that  it  is  perfectly  susceptible  of  such 
an  adjustment.  I  feel  it  my  duty,  therefore,  as 
an  officer  of  the  court,  to  apprise  your  Honor  of 
my  conclusion,  so  that  if  it  shall  appear  to  you 
that  a  delay  of  twenty-four  hours  now  may  per- 
haps save  years  of  legal  strife,  you  may  take  the 
appropriate  action.  I  myself,  however,  make  no 
application  for  postponement,  abiding  strictly  by 
the  terms  of  my  associate's  stipulation.  Indeed  if 
my  suggestion  does  not  meet  with  the  entire  ap- 
proval of  the  Court  I  shall  be  ready  to  proceed  at 

69 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

once,  merely  regretting  the  failure  of  my  well- 
meant  efforts  to  expedite  justice." 

There  was  a  ring  of  earnestness  in  the  eminent 
advocate's  suave  appeal,  and  more  than  one  in 
the  rapt  audience  nodded  approvingly  as  he  re- 
sumed his  seat.  The  Judge,  too,  seemed  im- 
pressed with  his  evident  fairness,  for  there  was  a 
note  of  approbation  in  his  voice  as  he  addressed 
the  defendant's  counsel. 

"Well,  Mr.  Poinder,"  he  began,  "what  do  you 
say?' 

"I  request,  j'our  Honor,  to  call  a  jury  and 
proceed  at  once  to  the  trial  of  this  case,"  snapped 
the  attorney. 

Even  those  who  knew  Richard  Poinder  best 
were  startled  at  the  curt,  almost  harsh  rejection 
of  his  opponent's  advance,  and  Judge  Kinsley 
looked  as  though  he  was  a  bit  ashamed  of  the 
brusk  manners  of  his  Bar. 

"In  view  of  Mr.  Dunham's  statement,  Mr. 
Poinder,"  he  observed,  "do  you  not  think  it  might 
be  wise  to  suspend  proceedings  until  there  has 
been  at  least  an  attempt  at  an  amicable  settle- 
ment?" 

70 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

A  shade  of  annoyance  crossed  Poinder's  face  as 
he  rose  to  reply.  He  delayed  a  moment,  silent,  to 
make  sure  of  outward  composure. 

"No,  sir,  I  do  not,"  he  asserted,  positively. 
"My  learned  friend,  whose  disinterested  motives 
impel  him  to  make  this  eleventh-hour  plea  for 
peace,  knows  precisely  on  what  terms  he  can 
avoid  the  strife  he  deplores.  His  client  is  the 
aggressor.  It  began  this  litigation  and  it  can 
end  it  at  any  moment.  Let  us  have  no  more 
nonsense.  Your  Honor  has  long  been  familiar 
with  the  whole  situation.  After  a  desperate 
fight  we  are  at  the  top  of  the  calendar  at  last,  and 
I  decline  to  recognize  any  flag  of  truce  which 
will  cause  us  to  yield  our  place." 

The  Judge  glanced  at  Dunham  as  Poinder  sat 
down,  and  the  counsel  for  the  Supply  Company, 
completely  ignoring  his  opponent's  presence, 
slowly  rose,  and,  removing  his  eyeglasses,  ad- 
dressed the  Bench  in  a  confidential,  almost  pat- 
ronizing, tone. 

"In  fairness  to  the  Court,"  he  observed,  "per- 
haps I  ought  to  have  advised  your  Honor  that, 
should  the  trial  of  this  case  actually  begin,  a  set- 

71 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

tlement  will  be  quite  impracticable.     I  therefore 
suggest—" 

"Mr.  Dunham,  how  long  will  you  take  to  pre- 
sent your  case?"  interrupted  the  Judge. 

"About  a  week,  I  think,  sir." 

The  Judge  frowned,  but  nodded  comprehend- 
ingly,  and,  taking  up  the  calendar-sheet,  studied 
it  with  marked  deliberation,  leaning  back  in  his 
chair,  his  elbow  resting  on  one  of  its  arms  and  a 
pencil  poised  against  his  upper  lip.  Every  eye 
in  the  room  watched  him  intently,  but  he  ap- 
peared oblivious  of  the  spectators,  though  once 
or  twice  he  shoved  his  spectacles  back  on  his  fore- 
head and  gazed  abstractedly  over  the  room.  At 
last  he  laid  aside  his  paper,  and,  removing  his 
spectacles,  addressed  the  defendant's  counsel. 

"Mr.  Poinder,"  he  began,  "I  incline  to  the 
opinion  that  Mr.  Dunham's  suggestion  should 
prevail.  If  a  settlement  of  this  case  is  possible, 
it  should  be  attempted.  Considering  the  condi- 
tion of  the  calendar  and  the  fact  that  we  are 
nearing  the  close  of  this  term,  I  am  loth  to  pre- 
cipitate a  lengthy  trial  which  may  be  avoided  by 
a  delay  of  twenty-four  hours." 

72 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

David  Gedney  had  risen  excitedly  with  the 
evident  intention  of  addressing  the  Court  as  the 
Judge  ceased,  but  Mr.  Poinder,  catching  sight  of 
his  flushed  face,  checked  him  before  he  could 
utter  a  word,  and  then  calmly  turned  to  the 
Bench. 

"If  your  Honor  will  impanel  a  jury  now,"  he 
answered,  "so  that  we  will  be  actually  on  trial 
and  hold  our  place  on  the  calendar,  I  will  consent 
to  postpone  further  proceedings  until  this  after- 
noon." 

The  Judge  frowned  and  shook  his  head  at  this 
proposition,  but  his  face  showed  that  it  was  as 
unexpected  as  it  was  unwelcome,  and  his  response 
was  unmistakably  impatient. 

"We  have  not  sufficient  talesmen  to  admit  of 
impaneling  juries  and  reserving  them  to  meet  the 
convenience  of  counsel,"  he  asserted.  "You 
know  that,  Mr.  Poinder." 

"And  should  a  jury  be  impaneled,"  Dunham 
reminded  him,  "no  settlement  will  be  possible. 
If  this  case  begins,  it  will  go  on,"  he  added,  sig- 
nificantly. 

"And  if  we  leave  it  to  you  to  say  when  it  shall 

73 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

begin,  it  will  never  go  on!"  retorted  Poinder, 
angrily.  "Your  Honor,  it  is  high  time  the  plain- 
tiff ceased  to  trifle  with  the  dignity  of  this  Court. 
You  will  observe  that  counsel  are  here  without 
witnesses,  as  though  assured  of  compliance  with 
their  demands,  and — " 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir*?"  interrupted 
Kinsley,  instantly  bristling. 

"I  mean  that  my  professional  courtesy  has  been 
abused  and  is  being  traded  upon,"  the  lawyer  re- 
sponded suavely,  but  with  a  sharp  glance  at  the 
Bench.  "They  say  that  they  will  not  settle  if 
they  are  forced  to  trial  now.  Why?  I  will  tell 
you.  It  is  because  their  case  will  collapse  the 
moment  the  Court  demands  their  proofs.  I  say 
they  are  unprepared  now.  I  assert  that  they 
have  not  a  single  witness  under  subpoena  at  this 
moment,  and  challenge  them  to  refute  that 
charge." 

"Not  being  in  the  habit  of  unmasking  my  bat- 
teries before  the  event,  I  decline  to  waste  words 
on  such  a  boyish  proposition,"  responded  Dun- 
ham, hotly. 

74 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

"Then  I  demand  a  trial  now!"  exclaimed 
Poinder. 

"Demand*?"  repeated  the  Judge,  reprovingly. 
"Let  me  remind  you,  Mr.  Poinder,  that  this  mat- 
ter rests  entirely  with  the  discretion  of  the  Court, 
which  in  this  case — " 

"Has  been  already  exercised  by  your  Honor's 
order  setting  down  this  cause  peremptorily  for  to- 
day," interrupted  the  lawyer. 

"In  view  of  the  new  facts,  however,"  persisted 
the  Judge,  but  before  he  could  proceed  Mr.  Poin- 
der again  interrupted. 

"New  facts,  your  Honor*?"  he  exclaimed. 
"Where  are  the  new  facts?  There  is  nothing 
here  but  another  new  fiction.  My  client  has  not 
invited  any  proposition  of  settlement,  and  does 
not  desire  any  adjournment  to  consider  the  same. 
He  comes  to  this  forum  and  demands  a  prompt 
public  hearing  of  the  matters  in  dispute.  This 
he  is  entitled  to,  not  as  a  matter  of  favor,  but  as 
a  matter  of  right,  and  I  therefore  demand  it  in 
his  name." 

A  faint  ripple  of  applause  started  in  the  rear 
of  the  room,  but  instantly  ceased  as  the  Judge 

77 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

crashed  his  gavel  on  the  desk  and  glared  angrily 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

"Your  client  is  not  the  only  one  who  has  rights 
in  this  court,  Mr.  Poinder,"  he  observed. 
"There  are  other  cases  waiting  to  be  tried,  and  I 
do  not  intend  to  devote  the  remaining  days  of  this 
term,  unnecessarily,  to  the  trial  of  one  cause. 
The  plaintiff's  counsel  has  frankly  stated  his  be- 
lief that  he  can  adjust  this  whole  controversy  by 
suspending  the  proceedings  for  a  day,  and  I  am 
of  *the  opinion  that  he  should  have  the  oppor- 
tunity to  do  so." 

An  intensely  silent  moment  intervened. 

"I  respectfully  submit  that  your  Honor  mis- 
takes the  function  of  the  Court,"  commented 
Poinder.  "It  is  not  within  your  province  to  fa- 
cilitate compromises  or  adjustments  against  the 
will  of  either  party." 

Judge  Kinsley  flushed  at  the  fearless  criticism, 
and,  leaning  forward  on  his  desk,  pointed  a 
threatening  finger  at  the  speaker. 

"The  Court  requires  no  instruction  from  coun- 
sel as  to  its  duties,"  he  snapped.  "You  will 
please  restrain  your  zeal,  sir!  In  the  judgment 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

of  the  Bench  a  day's  adjournment  in  this  case  will 
best  serve  the  ends  of  justice,  and — " 

"The  ends  of  justice!  This  is  the  end  of 
justice!" 

Gedney  leaped  to  his  feet  as  he  roared  out  the 
words,  but  Mr.  Poinder  caught  him  as  he  strug- 
gled toward  the  judicial  desk,  and  literally  forced 
him  back  into  his  chair. 

"Keep  silent,  or  we  're  ruined !"  he  whispered, 
but  before  he  could  pacify  the  excited  man  the 
Judge  had  adjourned  the  case  until  the  next  day 
and  was  busy  calling  the  balance  of  the  calendar. 
But  this  ceremony  merely  served  to  verify  young 
Coming's  prophecy,  for  with  the  unexpected 
postponement  of  the  first  case  the  whole  calendar 
broke  and  not  another  cause  was  ready.  Indeed, 
before  Mr.  Poinder's  party  had  gathered  their 
books  and  papers  together  the  court-room  was 
well-nigh  deserted.  At  the  door,  however,  Old 
Man  Reeve  was  awaiting  them  with  Zeb,  and  as 
the  latter  took  Mr.  Gedney  under  his  umbrella 
and,  partially  supporting  him,  led  the  way  toward 
the  hotel,  the  proprietor  laid  a  detaining  hand  on 
Mr.  Poinder's  arm. 

79 


"Well,  Counselor,"  he  observed,  "do  you  still 
think  there  's  no  politics  in  this  case*?" 

The  lawyer  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  see  where,  Pete,"  he  responded. 
"But  something  is  the  matter  with  Kinsley. 
What  do  you  suppose  it  is*?" 

"I  don't  suppose;  I  know,"  muttered  the  vet- 
eran. "It 's  just  as  I  told  you.  Peck  and  Dun- 
ham are  threatening  to  put  a  candidate  in  the 
field  against  him.  And  they  '11  do  it  too,  if  he 
ain't  good." 

The  lawyer  gazed  incredulously  at  the  speaker. 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  demanded. 

"Heard  it  from  the  Forks  over  the  telephone," 
asserted  the  old  man.  "They  've  been  workin' 
it  up  for  a  week,  and  they  've  picked  out  a 
popular  candidate,  too,"  he  added  with  a  sly 
smile. 

"Who  is  he?' 

"Somebody  they  don't  want  the  Judge  to  be 
too  friendly  with  just  now,  of  course.  Can't 
you  guess?  No*?  Well,  my  son,  it's  y-o-u — 
you!" 

Mr.  Poinder  stared  dumfoundedly  at  his  in- 
80 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE 

formant  for  a  moment,  and  then  his  face  grad- 
ually relaxed  in  a  smile. 

"This  is  a  joke,  isn't  it,  Pete*?"  he  inquired. 

The  proprietor  of  the  Reeve  House  glanced 
toward  the  hotel  through  whose  doors  Mr.  Ged- 
ney  was  at  that  moment  passing. 

"It 's  no  joke  for  him,  I  reckon,"  he  responded, 
jerking  his  thumb  toward  the  retreating  figure, 
"and  it 's  a  joke  that 's  likely  to  last  as  long  as  this 
term  does.  Say,  Mr.  Poinder,"  he  went  on,  "I 
reckon  there  was  one  trick  of  your  friend  the  Res- 
urrectionist you  did  n't  know,  eh1?" 

The  lawyer  nodded  meditatively. 

"We  live  and  learn,  Pete,"  he  admitted. 

The  old  man  eyed  him  narrowly  for  a  moment 
and  then  chuckled  softly  to  himself. 

"Well,  Counselor,"  he  drawled,  "do  you  want 
to  learn  another  trick  worth  two  of  hisn?" 

The  lawyer  glanced  with  a  grim  smile  at  the 
shrewd,  kindly  face  of  his  questioner. 

"I  'm  not  above  it,"  he  answered.  "But  the 
best  move  I  can  think  of  is  to  let  Kinsley  know 
that  it 's  all  a  game  and  that  I  've  no  intention 
of  running  against  him.  Is  that  it?" 

8l 


"Nope,"  responded  the  old  man.  "If  you  did 
that,  maybe  they  'd  scare  him  with  some  other 
candidate.  No,  sir.  You  've  got  to  take  a 
hand  in  their  own  game  and  beat  'em  at  it.  Let 
Kinsley  know  that  if  he  don't  try  your  case  this 
term  you  will  run  against  him — and  run  against 
him  for  fair!  So  long  as  you  're  in  the  field  they 
can't  combine  on  another  candidate  in  this  county, 
and  Kinsley  knows  it.  But  ef  he  don't,  I  've  got 
the  delegates  to  prove  it  to  him — got  'em  right  in 
my  pocket,  Counselor." 

Mr.  Poinder  gazed  at  the  speaker  with  un- 
feigned admiration. 

"Peter  Reeve,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  take  off  my 
hat  to  you!  You  ought  be  in  public  life. 
You  'd  surely  be  a  king  in  the  diplomatic  world." 

The  veteran  shook  his  head  protestingly. 

"I  ruther  keep  the  Reeve  House,"  he  responded 
simply. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  SHORT  CAUSE 

"My  cause  is  called  and  that  long  look'd-for  day 
Is  still  incumbered  by  some  new  delay." 

Dryden. 

f  •  AHE  postponement  of  Gedney's  case  did 
JL  not  take  the  bar  of  Eraser  County  entirely 
by  surprise.  Indeed,  the  general  opinion  seemed 
to  be  that  Mr.  Poinder  had  done  extremely  well 
in  forcing  his  opponent  to  content  himself  with 
a  delay  of  four-and- twenty  hours.  It  was  not 
often  that  Wallace  Dunham  left  a  court-room  on 
as  short  a  tether  as  that,  and  if  further  obstruc- 
tion was  his  aim,  he  had,  in  the  judgment  of  the 
experts,  met  with  a  sharp  repulse.  But,  grateful 
to  local  pride  as  this  conclusion  was,  it  could  not 
be  accepted  by  the  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House 
without  prolonged  debate.  Nothing  ever  was 
accepted  by  that  unofficial  forum  without  the 
fullest  possible  discussion,  but  on  this  occasion 

83 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

it  decided  with  some  unanimity  that  the  Resur- 
rectionist was  merely  "sparring  for  position"  and 
intended  promptly  to  take  up  the  gage  of  battle 
which  Richard  Poinder  had  so  defiantly  flung 
down. 

That  the  wish  was  father  to  this  thought  could 
not  be  denied,  but  no  familiar  of  the  Reeve 
House  would  have  claimed  that  its  wish  was  in- 
spired solely  by  personal  regard  for  Poinder  or 
his  distracted  client.  The  Farm  Supply  Com- 
pany vs.  Gedney  &  Son  promised  to  provide  the 
local  arena  with  a  battle  royal  of  the  law.  This 
was  its  sole  interest  for  the  legal  fraternity  and 
revealed  the  open  secret  of  its  hope  that  the  mor- 
row would  not  see  another  spoke  in  Gedney's 
wheel.  No  such  opportunity  for  observing  the 
tactics  of  a  distinguished  trial  counsel  from  the 
city  had  occurred  in  Belo  for  years,  and  the  en- 
tire Bar  had  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
Poinder  had  refused  to  yield  his  place  on  the 
calendar  and  virtually  forced  the  court  to  sus- 
pend proceedings  for  the  day  in  order  to  grant  the 
Resurrectionist  the  brief  adjournment  he  had 
asked. 

84 


A  SHORT  CAUSE 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  a  few 
hours  later  Foster  fairly  startled  the  lobby  with 
a  well-nigh  incomprehensible  remark. 

"I  wish  young  Corning  joy  with  his  case  this 
afternoon,"  he  observed,  addressing  the  assembled 
company  in  general. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  the  speaker 
to  frame  a  more  inviting  opening,  but,  curious  as 
his  hearers  were  to  understand  the  meaning  of  his 
ominous  declaration,  it  elicited  no  encouraging 
response.  On  the  contrary,  those  who  were  read- 
ing screened  themselves  behind  their  newspapers 
in  silent  protest  against  any  violation  of  the  un- 
written law  of  the  Reeve  House  which  prohibited 
conversation  for  the  hour  following  the  noon-day 
meal. 

Foster  was  perfectly  familiar  with  this  rule. 
Indeed,  no  one  but  a  fledgling  member  of  the 
Bar  could  plead  ignorance  of  any  of  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  lobby,  and  Foster  was  no  tyro.  On 
this  occasion,  however,  he  calmly  disregarded  the 
obvious  disapproval  of  his  associates  and  re- 
peated his  remark,  glancing  hopefully  toward  the 
group  around  the  table  at  which  Old  Man  Reeve 

85 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

and  Brundage  were  playing  their  daily  game  of 
checkers.  Not  a  head  turned  in  his  direction ;  so, 
after  a  pause,  he  rose  from  his  chair  and,  standing 
with  his  back  to  the  big  wood  stove,  attempted 
another  advance. 

"A  madder  set  of  jurymen  I  never  laid  eyes 
on,"  he  commented.  "Picking  out  the  unprej- 
udiced from  that  lot  will  be  harder  than  finding 
golf  balls  in  a  daisy  field." 

One  of  the  readers  tossed  aside  his  newspaper 
with  unmistakable  impatience,  and,  tipping  back 
his  chair  against  the  wall,  began  filling 'his  pipe. 

"I  'd  rather  sit  in  court  and  be  paid  for  listen- 
ing to  chatter  than  endure  it  elsewhere  for 
nothing,"  he  muttered. 

The  tattoo  of  applause  which  greeted  this 
caustic  reproof  lowered  several  newspaper  shields 
and  Foster  acknowledged  it  with  a  gracious  wave 
of  his  hand. 

"A  hit;  a  palpable  hit,  Brother  Warren!"  he 
responded,  affably.  "But  the  trouble  with  your 
reasoning  is  that  the  jurors  on  this  Circuit  are 
paid  by  the  term  and  not  by  the  case ;  so  when  the 
calendar  breaks,  as  it  did  this  morning,  and  there 's 

86 


A  SHORT  CAUSE 

every  prospect  of  a  holiday,  they  don't  feel  that 
they  're  exactly  making  money  when  a  youngster 
like  Corning  pops  up  with  a  plea  for  an  afternoon 
session." 

An  afternoon  session?  What  did  that  mean*? 
Every  man  in  the  room  knew  that  not  a  case  had 
been  ready  when  the  Resurrectionist  had  received 
his  eleventh-hour  respite,  but,  though  they  looked 
inquiringly  at  each  other,  no  one  voiced  the  nec- 
essary question.  Finally  Old  Man  Reeve  paused 
with  his  hand  on  a  checker  and  peered  over  his 
gold-rimmed  spectacles  at  the  speaker. 

"What  are  you  talking  'bout,  Mr.  Foster?" 
he  inquired.  "I  was  to  court  this  forenoon,  and 
the  hull  calendar  split  to  pieces  after  Gedney's 
case  went  off." 

"That 's  what  I  thought,  Pete,"  responded  the 
lawyer,  "and  the  talesmen  thought  so  too;  but 
just  as  Kinsley  was  leaving  the  bench  that  young 
fool  Corning  hopped  up  with  a  hard  luck  story 
about  a  short  cause  and  a  lady  client  from  a  dis- 
tant town  who  could  be  ready  for  trial  in  an  hour 
or  so.  Of  course  I  supposed  his  Honor  would 
bite  the  boy's  head  off  before  he  'd  finished  talk- 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

ing,  but  he  didn't;  and  when  little  Hixon,  who 
represented  the  other  side,  joined  in  the  plea,  he 
actually  countermanded  the  adjournment  for  the 
day  and  ordered  a  recess  until  two  o'clock.  By 
Jove,  I  '11  never  forget  the  faces  of  the  jurymen 
at  that  announcement!  Of  all  the  wet  hens  I 
ever  saw  they  were  the  maddest,  and  if  Corning 
can  get  twelve  of  them  to  agree  with  him  on  any 
subject  he  's  more  of  a  wizard  than  I  fancy." 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  Corning  that  he  did  not 
enter  the  lobby  at  that  moment,  for  his  reception 
at  the  hands  of  his  legal  brethren  would  certainly 
have  hurt  his  self-respect.  Resentment  and  dis- 
gust were  depicted  in  almost  every  face,  and  even 
Old  Man  Reeve's  good-natured  countenance 
was  clouded.  For  a  while  no  one  spoke,  and 
then  Parton  crushed  his  newspaper  into  a  ball 
and  hurled  it  at  the  stove. 

"Gol  darn  all  such  meddling  pups!"  he  mut- 
tered. "That 's  good-by  to  to-morrow's  pro- 
gram, I  reckon,  and  with  only  a  few  days  left 
in  this  term  we  may  as  well  go  home." 

"Not  necessarily,"  objected  Plimpton.  "Corn- 
ing and  Hixon  may  finish  their  fight  this  after- 


A  SHORT  CAUSE 

noon.  You  said  it  was  a  short  cause,  did  n't  you, 
Foster?" 

The  lawyer  laughed  and,  hooking  a  chair  to- 
ward him  with  his  foot,  sat  down. 

"A  short  cause!"  he  sniffed.  "I  know  these 
simple,  short  causes !  They  're  always  so 
crowded  with  fine  points  of  law  that  the  facts 
get  smothered,  and  after  days  of  argument  the 
jury  stays  out  all  night  and  ends  in  disagreeing. 
That  '11  be  the  finish  of  this  case,  too,  I  'd  like 
to  bet,  with  all  the  jurors  fighting  mad  before 
they  enter  the  box." 

"Did  any  of  them  protest1?" 

"Protest?  No!  What  good  would  it  have 
done  to  protest?  But  two  of  them  did  ask  to  be 
excused,  and,  Kinsley  being  in  one  of  his  ugliest 
moods,  they  got  thoroughly  snubbed  for  their 
pains.  In  fact,  I  've  never  heard  his  Honor  berate 
anybody  worse  than  he  did  those  two  unfortunates, 
and  after  he  left  the  bench  that  secretary  of  his, 
Abner  Saltus,  snarled  and  snapped  at  them  be- 
cause they  ventured  to  ask  a  few  simple  questions 
about  the  probable  length  of  the  term.  If  those 
two  fellows  don't  find  some  way  of  evading  jury 

89 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

duty  before  this  court  meets  again,  I  miss  my 
mark." 

"They  're  fools  if  they  don't,"  commented 
Brundage  from  the  checker  table.  "The  way 
we  handle  jurors  is  enough  to  sicken  any  self- 
respecting  citizen.  Instead  of  regarding  them 
as  judges  of  the  facts  who  are  entitled  to  some- 
thing of  the  respect  and  consideration  that  is  ac- 
corded a  judge  of  the  law,  we  treat  them  like 
criminals,  unrepresented  by  counsel,  whom  every 
whippersnapper  of  an  official  is  free  to  insult! — 
Foster,  you  've  ruined  Pete's  game  with  this 
talk-fest. — That  was  a  fatal  move  of  yours,  old 
man.  I  've  got  you  absolutely.  Want  to  strug- 
gle any  longer*?" 

The  proprietor  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his 
pipe  without  removing  his  eyes  from  the  board, 
and  his  face,  which  had  remained  uncommonly 
grim,  gradually  resumed  its  humorous  expression. 

"Reckon  I  '11  wriggle  around  for  a  spell,"  he 
drawled.  "War  n't  it  you  that  wuz  tellin'  me, 
Mr.  Brundage,  'bout  the  city  jury  that  got  stuck 
between  floors  in  an  elevator  when  retiring  for 
their  verdict?" 

90 


A  SHORT  CAUSE 

"I  remember  something  like  that,'*  interposed 
one  of  the  onlookers.  "What  happened  to  'em, 
Tom?' 

"Why,  after  they'd  been  cooped  up  for  a 
while  they  took  a  ballot  and  agreed  on  a  verdict," 
responded  the  prosecutor.  "That  just  suited  the 
Judge,  who  wanted  to  get  away,  so  he  held 
court  on  the  stairs  surrounding  the  cage,  had  the 
verdict  recorded,  and  went  home." 

"Leaving  the  twelve  good  men  and  true  in  the 
cage,  I  suppose,"  laughed  Foster. 

"Of  course,"  responded  the  State's  Attorney. 
"Nobody  cared  what  happened  to  them.  But 
they  were  revenged  in  a  way,  for  the  fellow  that 
lost  the  case  appealed  on  the  ground  that  the 
Code  required  the  jury  to  retire  to  a  'convenient 
and  private  room]  and  the  learned  reviewing 
court  decided  that  an  elevator  was  n't  a  private 
room  and  was  damned  inconvenient.  So  the 
verdict  was  upset.  Hello,  Pete!  what  are  you 
doing*?" 

"Just  forcing  you  to  take  one  and  lose  two," 
responded  the  Old  Man,  with  a  chuckle.  "Go 
on  conversin'.  It 's  quite  a  help." 

91 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"I'll  get  you  yet,  you  old  fox!"  retorted  his 
opponent,  joining  in  the  general  laugh.  "There! 
Now  get  out  of  that  trap  if  you  can. — What 's 
Coming's  case  about,  Foster4?" 

"About  slandering  a  house,  as  far  as  I  could 
make  out,"  responded  the  lawyer. 

"Slandering  a  house?  Who  ever  heard  of 
such  a  thing?" 

Foster  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Well,  that 's  what  I  'd  call  it,"  he  responded. 
"Anyway,  the  fight  is  between  two  women,  one 
of  whom  accuses  the  other  of  spreading  reports 
that  her  house  is  haunted,  with  the  result  that  she 
has  n't  been  able  to  rent  it  for  years." 

"Wow !"  exclaimed  Plimpton.  "There  's  all 
sorts  of  possibilities  in  that  case,  and — " 

"There 's  a  whole  library  of  law  points  and  a 
week's  trial  in  it,"  interrupted  Parton.  "I  told 
you  it  meant  good-by  to  Gedney's  case  for  this 
term,  and  I  start  home  to-night." 

Plimpton  glanced  at  the  clock,  and,  rising, 
took  his  raincoat  from  the  hook. 

"I  'm  with  you,  Parton,"  he  announced. 
"Let's  go  down  to  the  depot,  see  about  the 

92 


A  SHORT  CAUSE 

trains,  and  take  in  a  bit  of  this  'house-slander* 
action  on  the  way  back.  We  've  got  plenty  of 
time,  and,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  better  I  like 
that  case.  It 's  just  stuffed  full  of  opportunities, 
and,  with  Corning  and  Hixon  trying  out  their 
horns  on  it,  it  ought  to  be  as  good  as  a  play. 
Come  on,  boys,"  he  continued,  addressing  the 
others.  "Let 's  meet  at  the  court-house  and 
get  some  fun  out  of  this  rotten  wet  day." 

There  was  no  immediate  response  to  this  sug- 
gestion, but  after  Plimpton  had  departed  the 
lobby  gradually  thinned  until  Old  Man  Reeve 
and  his  opponent  found  themselves  its  sole  re- 
maining occupants.  For  a  few  moments  they 
continued  their  game  in  silence,  and  then  paused, 
as  though  by  mutual  consent. 


93 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LEAVE   TO   INTERVENE 

"All  is  fair  in  love  and  law.     In  love  and  war  you 
say  ?    Well,  is  n't  law  a  sort  of  civil  war  ? 

Colline. 

'\\  TELL,  Pete,"  began  the  State's  Attorney, 
»  V  as  he  glanced  up  from  the  board,  "you  're 
in  the  double  corner  again  and  I  don't  seem 
to  have  any  more  luck  in  catching  you  than 
poor  old  Gedney  has  in  corralling  the  Supply 
people.  I  thought  Poinder  had  Dunham  caught 
this  time  for  sure,  but  it  looks  as  though  the 
Resurrectionist  had  slipped  into  a  sort  of  double 
corner  himself.  By  Jove,  practising  law  is 
rather  like  playing  checkers,  is  n't  it*?" 

The  old  man  blew  some  scatterings  from  his 
tobacco  pouch  onto  the  floor  and  shook  his  head. 

"Nope,"  he  answered.     "Everything's  above 
board  in  this  game." 

94 


LEAVE  TO  INTERVENE 

He  tapped  the  table  as  he  spoke,  and,  rasp- 
ing a  match  across  it,  proceeded  to  relight  his 
pipe. 

"That 's  saying  a  bit  too  much  or  a  bit  too 
little,  isn't  it,  Pete1?"  inquired  the  lawyer,  after 
a  pause. 

The  veteran  leaned  forward,  and,  resting  his 
elbows  on  the  table,  with  his  chin  in  his  hands, 
stared  steadily  at  his  questioner. 

"Maybe  it  is,  Mr.  Brundage,"  he  reflected. 
"Maybe  it  is.  But  you  're  a  good  friend  of  Mr. 
Poinder's,  counselor,  so  I  'm  going  to  take  a 
chance  and  tell  you  something  more.  What  'd 
you  say  if  I  wuz  to  tell  you  that  Dunham  worked 
that  adjournment  this  morning  by  playin'  poli- 
tics with  Judge  Kinsley1?" 

Brundage  smiled. 

"I  'd  say  that  the  silly  season  in  politics  had 
arrived  rather  early  this  year,"  he  responded. 

"All  right,  counselor.  I  'm  not  going  into  the 
details  of  it,  but  you  know  the  Judge  is  dead-set 
on  gettin'  renominated  at  the  primaries  next 
month,  and  I  've  a  notion  that  the  Supply  people 
have  kinder  intimated  that  he  '11  need  their  help. 

95 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Anyway,  there  's  been  some  real  or  make-believe 
opposition  to  him  down  at  Crosby's  Forks,  and 
the  candidate  they  're  talkin'  up  is  Poinder." 

The  State's  Attorney  gave  a  low  whistle. 

"You  're  no  more  surprised  than  Mr.  Poinder 
wuz,  counselor,"  continued  his  companion.  "He 
wuz  for  seein'  the  Judge  at  once  and  tellin'  him 
the  hull  thing  wuz  a  fake.  But  I  reckoned  to 
hoist  'em  with  their  own  petard  this  forenoon  by 
fixin'  it  so 's  they  could  n't  name  any  one  but 
Kinsley  or  him.  So  I  told  him — " 

"I  see,"  interrupted  the  lawyer.  "He  was  to 
let  Kinsley  understand  that  he  'd  really  fight  for 
th°.  nomination  if  Gedney's  case  should  be  de- 
layed. By  Jimmy,  that  was  pretty  shrewd, 
Pete!" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"Maybe  it  wuz  a  bit  too  shrewd,  Mr.  Brun- 
dage,"  he  responded,  gloomily.  "I  ain't  so  all- 
fired  sure  they  wuz  playin'  politics,  which  is  a 
mighty  dangerous  game.  But,  if  they  wuz,  I 
reckon  we  're  a  day  late  in  findin'  it  out.  Any- 
way, they  've  quit  it,  and  now  they  're  trying 
cross-tag." 


"  Nope,"  Pete  answered.      "  Everything  's  above  board  in  this  game. 


LEAVE  TO  INTERVENE 

The  Prosecutor  pushed  back  his  chair  with  a 
puzzled  expression  on  his  face. 

"Cross-tag!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  don't  know 
what  you  're  talking  about,  Pete.  It 's  all  too 
much  for  me." 

"  'Tain't  neither,"  asserted  his  host.  "It 's 
plain  as  day.  We  were  goin'  to  tag  Kinsley, 
and  I  reckon  they  knew  it.  Well,  they  've 
crossed  us  with  Coming's  case.  As  long  as 
that 's  blocking  the  way  they  don't  have  to  ask 
nothin'  of  Kinsley  and  he  don't  have  to  do 
nothin'.  There  ain't  no  danger  in  that,  is 

there?" 

yf 
There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  Brun- 

dage  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"I  see,"  he  responded.  "You  think  they  got 
'leave  to  intervene,  so  to  speak.  But  would  a 
man  like  the  Resurrectionist  risk  letting  that 
young  fool  Corning  into  his  confidence  sufficiently 
to  work  such  a  scheme?" 

The  host  of  the  Reeve  House  gave  a  snort  of 
contempt. 

"Good  Lord,  no!"  he  responded;  "and 
'twarn't  necessary.  Hixon  and  that  little  rat 

99 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Peck,  who  pettifogs  for  the  Supply  folks,  are 
thick  as  thieves,  ain't  they?  Well,  I  reckon 
they  fixed  it  up  between  'em  on  a  hint  from  the 
city  shark,  and  the  Corning  boy  has  played  right 
into  their  hands." 

The  Prosecutor  nodded  again. 

"By  Jove,  I  believe  you're  right,  Pete!"  he 
muttered.  "I  thought  I  knew  all  the  tricks  for 
staving  off  the  day  of  reckoning,  but  side-track- 
ing your  opponent  for  a  day  and  then  blocking 
the  calendar  with  a  'short  cause'  which  '11  outlast 
the  term  is  a  new  one  to  me.  What  does  Poin- 
der  think  about  it?" 

"He  doesn't  know  it's  happened.  He  went 
over  to  the  Forks  directly  after  court,  you  re- 
member, and — " 

"Of  course.     And  Gedney?" 

"He 's  upstairs.  This  morning  pretty  nigh 
killed  him,  and  this  afternoon  '11  finish  the  job, 
unless — " 

The  old  man  paused,  and,  taking  his  watch 
from  his  pocket,  carefully  compared  it  with  the 
clock. 

"Unless  what,  Pete?" 
100 


LEAVE  TO  INTERVENE 

"Unless  you  want  to  come  to  the  rescue, 
counselor." 

Brundage  stared  at  his  host  with  amused  as- 
tonishment. 

"Me4?"  he  repeated,  smilingly.  "What  can  I 
do?" 

"Well,"  drawled  the  proprietor,  "you  're  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Poinder's,  and  I  thought  maybe 
you  'd  play  the  game  for  him  till  he  got  back." 

"Game  ?     What  game,  Pete  ?" 

"Cross-tag,  Mr.  Brundage.  They've  shoved 
Corning  over  to  save  themselves,  haven't  they*? 
Then  he  's  the  lad  to  tag." 

The  lawyer  gazed  at  the  shrewd  face  confront- 
ing him,  as  though  debating  the  wisdom  of  invit- 
ing further  confidences  along  this  line,  but  the 
old  man's  smile  was  reassuring. 

"I'd  be  glad  enough  to  help  Poinder,"  he  re- 
sponded, slowly,  "but  I  'm  not  much  good  at 
games,  Pete,  and  worse  at  guessing  riddles. 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do1?" 

"I  want  you  to  act  as  counsel  for  Brother 
Corning,  sir." 

The  State's  Attorney  threw  up  his  hands  and 
101 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

burst  out  laughing,  but  his  companion  stopped 
him  with  a  gesture. 

"I  'm  not  joking,  Mr.  Brundage,"  he  pro- 
tested, earnestly.  "A  boy  like  Corning  might 
drag  on  that  case  of  hisn  forever,  but  you  could 
finish  it  before  nightfall.  He 's  nervous  as  a 
cat,  and  he  'd  jump  at  the  chance  of  letting  you 
handle  it  for  him  if  you  volunteered  to  do  it. 
Now  don't  get  huffy,  counselor,"  he  continued,  as 
he  noted  a  shadow  on  the  Prosecutor's  face.  "I 
ain't  for  suggestin'  that  you  throw  his  case.  I 
wuz  a  sort  of  honorary  member  of  this  Bar  be- 
fore you  wuz  much  more  'n  born,  sir.  I  know 
what 's  what  and — " 

"Of  course  you  do,  Pete,"  interrupted  the 
official,  cordially,  "and  I  '11  back  you  up — sight 
unseen.  Now  you  've  got  some  sort  of  a  plan 
in  your  head,  I  know.  Let 's  hear  it." 

The  old  man  nodded,  glanced  at  the  clock, 
and,  picking  up  his  hat  from  the  floor,  jerked  his 
thumb  toward  the  door. 

"We  ain't  got  much  time  for  talkin',  Mr. 
Brundage,"  he  announced.  "Get  your  hat,  sir, 
and  I  '11  explain  as  we  walk  over  to  the  court. 

102 


LEAVE  TO  INTERVENE 

You  remember  what  Mr.  Foster  wuz  tellin'  us 
about  the  talesmen  on  this  jury  panel1?  Mad  as 
hops,  he  claimed  they  wuz.  Well,  I  wuz 
thinkin'  that — " 

He  paused  suddenly,  observing  that  Zeb 
Turner  had  entered  the  lobby  with  an  armful  of 
wood,  and  then  continued  calmly. 

"I  wuz  thinkin'  it  was  'bout  time  for  you  to 
look  at  the  stove,  Zeb.  Keep  her  goin',  but  not 
much  more.  This  room  heats  up  something 
terrible  when  it  Js  crowded,  and  it  '11  be  warm  to- 
night. By  the  way,  boy,"  he  went  on,  casually, 
"how  many  of  them  jurymen  did  we  feed  to- 
day? Twenty-eight*?  Sure  it  war  n't  more'? 
All  right.  I  'm  over  to  the  court-house,  if  any- 
body 's  lookin'  for  me.  Come  along,  Mr.  Brun- 
dage,  right  under  my  umbrella — plenty  room  for 
two." 

As  the  door  closed  Zeb  deposited  his  wood  on 
the  floor,  and,  stepping  to  the  window,  followed 
the  retreating  figures  across  the  village  green 
until  they  disappeared  within  the  court-house. 
Then  he  turned  to  his  work  again  with  a  puzzled 
expression  on  his  face. 

103 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"Shucks!"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "Any- 
thing that  makes  Mr.  Brundage  laugh  like  that 
must  be  a  zip  of  a  story.  Wonder  why  the  old 
man  would  n't  let  me  hear  it*?  He 's  gittin' 
terrible  fussy  these  days.  Wantin'  to  count  the 
jurors!  Ain't  he  got  the  year's  contract  for 
feedin'  'em?  What  difference  would  it  make  if 
there  was  twenty-eight  or  twenty-nine?  Lordy, 
but  I  wisht  I  was  to  court  this  afternoon." 


104 


CHAPTER  IX 

CHALLENGES    FOR    CAUSE 

"Force  first  made  conquest  and  that  conquest,  law, 
Till  Superstition  taught  the  tyrant  awe, 
Then  shared  the  tyranny — then  lent  it  aid." 

Pope. 

ZEB'S  wish  was  no  exception  to  the  general 
rule  of  his  desires.  He  always  wanted  to 
be  in  court,  for  Circuit  week  was  the  greatest  edu- 
cational opportunity  of  his  life,  and  he  bitterly 
begrudged  every  session  that  he  missed.  On  this 
particular  occasion,  however,  he  gained  rather 
more  than  he  lost,  for,  with  his  work  completed, 
he  had  time  before  supper  to  hear  Mr.  Foster  give 
a  group  of  stay-at-homes  (among  whom,  in  all 
innocence,  he  included  Old  Man  Reeve)  a  full 
report  of  everything  that  had  happened  at  the 
court  during  the  afternoon. 

"  'Let 's  take  the  first  twelve  men  that  enter 
105 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

the  box' — That  was  the  bait  Brundage  carelessly 
threw  out  to  Hixon,  Pete,  and,  Lord!  you  ought 
to  have  seen  the  little  trout  rise  to  it!" 

The  small  but  attentive  audience  gathered  in 
the  proprietor's  private  office  smiled  apprecia- 
tively at  Foster's  opening  words. 

"I  never  knew  it  to  fail  with  small  fry," 
chuckled  Warren.  "It  always  makes  'em  sus- 
pect that  the  whole  panel  is  packed  with  your 
personal  friends." 

"It  is  n't  necessary  to  be  subtle  with  a  youngster 
like  Hixon,"  commented  Bigelow.  "Did  you 
ever  know  a  tenderfoot  to  miss  an  opportunity  for 
examining  a  jury1?  Why,  it 's  the  breath  of  their 
nostrils !  Of  course  the  boy  refused." 

"Certainly,"  responded  Foster,  "and  Tom 
did  n't  seem  surprised.  'Very  well,'  he  assented, 
with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  'You  go  ahead 
and  question  them  first.  Maybe  your  examina- 
tion will  do  for  both  of  us.'  This  patronizing 
indifference  evidently  worried  the  youngster  a  bit, 
but  he  soon  recovered  and  began  to  have  the 
time  of  his  life.  Dear  me,  but  he  was  funny  as 
he  swaggered  in  front  of  the  jury  box!  And  his 

106 


CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 

cross-examination  of  its  occupants  was  a  parody 
of  all  the  worst  methods  that  have  ever  been  ex- 
hibited at  this  Bar.  Somebody  had  evidently 
told  him  that  the  Resurrectionist  was  in  court 
and  he  played  to  him  as  though  he  was  on  the 
stage." 

Old  Man  Reeve,  perched  on  the  bookkeeper's 
stool,  ran  a  finger  inside  the  neck  of  his  collarless 
shirt  as  though  it  was  choking  him. 

"It  must  have  been  sickening,"  he  muttered, 
innocently. 

Foster  smiled  at  the  enthroned  picture  of 
disgust. 

"You  've  survived  the  sight  of  a  good  many 
puppies  in  court,  Pete,"  he  responded,  "and 
there  were  compensations  for  this  one.  Indeed, 
the  fact  that  he  was  playing  to  an  empty  house 
as  far  as  Brundage  was  concerned  struck  me  as 
supremely  comic.  Every  now  and  again  he  'd 
interrupt  his  torrent  of  searching  questions  by 
swinging  around  on  his  opponent  with  some  such 
ultimatum  as,  'Will  you  consent  that  this  tales- 
man be  excused,  sir,  or  shall  I  challenge  him?' 
and  Tom  would  either  answer,  'I  beg  your 

107 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

pardon*?'  as  though  suddenly  awakened,  or  mur- 
mur 'Consent,'  without  even  looking  up. 

"After  a  while,  however,  Kinsley  began  to 
take  an  interest  in  the  %ame,  and  when  Hixon 
next  attempted  to  retire  a  juror  by  consent  the 
Judge  nearly  bowled  him  off  his  feet.  'Since 
when  have  you  usurped  the  functions  of  this 
Court,  young  gentleman?3  he  snarled.  'I  beg  to 
remind  you  that  I  have  a  little  something  to  say 
as  to  whether  or  not  jurors  shall  be  excused. 
Challenge- for-cause  overruled!  \Proceed,  sir,  if 
you  please.' 

"Well,  you  know  what  happens  to  the  novice 
after  that  kind  of  dressing  down,  and  of  course  the 
more  humble  and  apologetic  Hixon  became, 
the  more  Kinsley  kicked  and  bullied  him,  with 
the  result  that  by  the  time  he  began  questioning 
the  talesmen  on  their  belief  in  superstitions  he 
was  in  a  running  fight  with  his  Honor  all  the 
time.  In  vain  he  explained  to  the  Court  that  he 
did  n't  want  superstitious  men  on  the  jury  be- 
cause they  would  believe  in  haunted  houses  and 
take  anything  that  his  client  might  have  said 
about  her  neighbor's  house  entirely  too  seriously. 

108 


CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 

"Kinsley  utterly  refused  to  consider  this  as 
a  disqualification  for  any  juryman,  but  when 
Hixon  began  to  empty  the  box  by  resorting  to  his 
"peremptory  challenges  the  talesmen  evidently 
saw  the  point,  for  they  all  took  to  exaggerating 
their  beliefs  in  order  to  effect  their  escape.  Then 
the  Hon.  Jacob  got  after  them  with  a  big  stick, 
and  the  way  he  ridiculed,  browbeat,  and  wal- 
loped all  the  superstition  out  of  them  was  some- 
thing to  see.  In  fact,  he  soon  had  them  so  tamed 
that  every  man  Jack  of  'em  seemed  eager  to  serve 
on  the  case,  and  Hixon  sat  down  with  his  six  pre- 
cious challenges  all  used  up  and  his  nerves  and 
temper  equally  exhausted." 

"This  all  sounds  familiar  to  me,"  yawned 
Warren,  "but  not  particularly  entertaining,  even 
for  a  wet  afternoon.  Eh,  Pete*?" 

"Well,  I  would  n't  have  missed  it  for  worlds," 
continued  Foster.  "Zeb,  my  boy,  is  that  the 
cracker-box  you  're  sitting  on?  Well,  let 's  look 
inside  it.  I  'm  hungry  as  a  bear.  Come  over 
here  if  you  want  to  sit  down — plenty  of  room  on 
this  bench.  Floor  good  enough  for  you1?  All 
right.  Say,  Pete,  you  've  seen  Tom  Brundage 

109 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

try  enough  cases  to  know  his  'sleepy  method,' 
haven't  you*?  Acts  as  though  he  was  only  half 
awake,  you  know,  and  was  missing  most  of  the 
points  in  the  case*?  Well,  he  outdid  himself  this 
afternoon,  and  if  I  had  n't  known  him  like  a  book 
I  'd  have  sworn  that  he  really  was  asleep  while 
Kinsley  and  Hixon  were  thrashing  out  the  super- 
stition question.  Anyway,  when  his  turn  to  ex- 
amine the  jury  arrived  he  began  going  over  the 
same  old  ground.  For  a  while  his  inquiries  were 
addressed  to  the  jury  as  a  whole,  asking  if  any 
of  them  believed  in  this  or  that  or  the  other 
superstition.  By  Jove,  I  don't  know  where  he 
ever  heard  of  all  the  queer  notions  and  beliefs  he 
referred  to,  but  some  of  them  were  so  funny  that 
he  had  us  convulsed  with  laughter  half  the  time. 
It  was  not  all  mere  fooling,  however,  for  he 
drew  out  such  strange  admissions  from  two  of  the 
talesmen  that  Kinsley  was  induced  to  excuse  them, 
and  four  times  he  emptied  a  seat  in  the  box,  with- 
out the  Judge's  help,  by  resorting  to  a  peremptory 
challenge.  Then  somebody  in  the  crowd  handed 
me  a  bit  of  paper  with  a  big  3  scrawled  on  it  and 
asked  me  to  pass  it  up  to  him.  I  did  so,  but,  after 

no 


CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 

glancing  at  it,  he  continued  along  the  same  line  as 
before,  with  the  result  that  the  Court  ruled  steadily 
against  him  and  he  was  finally  forced  to  use  one 
of  his  two  remaining  challenges. 

"Well,  as  you  can  imagine,  his  Honor  had 
been  growing  pretty  restive  during  this  perform- 
ance but  he  did  n't  dare  ride  rough-shod  over  a 
well-known  member  of  the  Bar  like  Brundage, 
and  it  was  n't  until  Tom  started  to  re-examine 
juror  No.  45  for  about  the  sixth  time  that  the 
storm  broke. 

"This  gentleman  happened  to  be  one  of  the 
two  that  Kinsley  had  sent  to  the  right-about  in 
the  morning,  and  he  had  evidently  acquired  a 
wholesome  respect  for  our  friend  on  the  bench, 
and  was  n't  looking  for  trouble  with  him.  Any- 
way, he  would  n't  admit  to  a  superstitious  pre- 
judice of  any  sort.  But  Brundage  kept  ham- 
mering away  at  him  and  finally  asked  him  if  he 
believed  there  could  be  such  a  thing  as  a  haunted 
house.  Then  his  Honor  intervened. 

"  'Now  that  will  do,  counselor !'  he  snapped. 
'This  man  says  he  has  no  superstitions.  That  in- 
cludes haunted  houses  and  everything  else. 

in 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Don't  waste  any  more  time.  The  juror  is  per- 
fectly qualified.' 

"  1  think  not,  your  Honor,'  Brundage  re- 
torted, calmly.  'Suppose  you  were  told,'  he 
continued,  addressing  the  talesman,  'suppose  you 
were  told  that  ghosts  had  been  seen  in  the  bed- 
rooms of  this  house  and  that  queer,  unearthly 
whispers  were  audible  in  it  at  nights — do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  such  stories  would  have  no 
effect  upon  your  mind*?'  " 

"  'Absolutely  none,'  says  the  fellow. 

"  'Do  you  mean  to  tell  the  Court — '  persisted 
Brundage,  but  before  he  could  finish  the  question 
Kinsley  fell  upon  him  tooth  and  nail. 

"  'Stop  this,  counselor !'  he  shouted,  'or  I  '11 
commit  you  for  contempt !  I  overrule  your  chal- 
lenge and  forbid  you  to  proceed.' 

"By  George,  boys,  you  could  have  heard  a  pin 
drop  in  the  court  at  that  minute,  but  Brundage 
never  turned  a  hair. 

"  'Your  Honor  has  not  yet  heard  the  grounds 
of  my  challenge,'  he  responded,  coolly,  'and  I  'm 
sure  you  will  not  overrule  it  when  you  do.  I 
admit  that  this  gentleman  is  superstition-proof, 

112 


CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 

but  that  is  precisely  the  reason  I  question  his  fit- 
ness for  this  case.  If,  as  he  says,  he  has  no  pa- 
tience with  superstition  and  does  not  understand 
how  any  sensible  person  could  believe  such  tales, 
is  it  possible  that  he  can  give  my  client  a  fair 
hearing  in  this  case?  No,  sir;  he  will  say  that 
those  slanderous  stories  of  her  house  being 
haunted  could  not  have  done  her  any  harm.  He 
will  insist  that  nobody  could  believe  them,  and 
that  her  property  must  have  remained  untenanted 
for  some  very  different  reason.' 

"By  Jove,  you  ought  to  have  seen  the  Judge's 
face  at  that  complete  change  in  the  attack.  He 
was  purple  with  wrath  and  nearly  split  his 
gavel  when  the  audience  broke  into  a  laugh. 
But,  though  he  fairly  pelted  the  unfortunate 
juror  with  questions  to  prove  him  qualified,  the 
man  evidently  grasped  the  situation  and  took  a 
malicious  pleasure  in  thwarting  him.  Anyway, 
he  not  only  stuck  to  his  claim  that  nobody  but  a 
fool  would  believe  in  a  haunted  house,  but  actually 
volunteered  the  information  that  it  would  be  far 
better  to  leave  a  house  vacant  than  to  rent  it  to  a 
fool.  That  finished  him,  of  course,  and  he  was 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

no  sooner  excused  than  Brundage  took  his  last  per- 
emptory challenge.  By  actual  count,  boys,  that 
was  the  seventeenth  time  the  jury  box  had  been 
depleted.  Well,  the  clerk  stuck  his  hand  into  the 
wheel  to  draw  the  name  of  another  talesman,  but 
he  scraped  and  clawed  around  without  producing 
anything.  Then  he  looked  nervously  over  at  the 
bench,  and — " 

"I  bet  I  know  what  had  happened !"  interrupted 
Zeb  Turner,  half  starting  from  his  seat  on  the 
floor.  "That  thar  paper  with  the  3  on  it  meant 
that  there  was  only  three  jurors  left,  and  he  'd 
used  'em  up,  so  there  war  n't  another  name  left 
in  the  wheel!" 

Foster  nodded. 

"You  win,  Zeb,"  he  answered  over  his  shoulder. 
"The  whole  panel  was  exhausted." 

"With  the  jury  still  one  man  short,"  laughed 
Warren.  "Kinsley  must  have  been  in  a  pleasant 
frame  of  mind !" 

"I  Jve  seen  him  in  a  happier  mood,"  asserted 
Foster.  "Hixon  wanted  to  go  on  with  eleven 
jurors,  but  Corning  would  n't  hear  of  it.  So  they 
live  to  fight  another  day." 

114 


CHALLENGES  FOR  CAUSE 

"You  mean  their  case  is  back  on  the  calendar*?" 

"Yes,  but  at  the  foot  of  it.  It  was  a  short 
cause,  after  all,  you  see,  and  Gedney  keeps  the 
right  of  way." 

Warren  tossed  his  hat  toward  the  ceiling  and, 
catching  it,  chuckled  to  himself. 

"I  think  Brundage  ought  to  have  the  thanks  of 
the  Bar,"  he  whispered  to  his  neighbor. 

"Look  out!"  admonished  his  companion,  with 
a  glance  at  Zeb.  "Start  a  story  like  that,  and 
it  '11  be  all  over  the  shop  before  you  know  it. 
Well,  Pete,"  he  continued,  "I  suppose  you  're 
feeling  pretty  sore  about  missing  an  event  of  this 
kind.  How  did  you  let  it  happen4?" 

The  Old  Man  shook  his  head,  but  before  he 
could  answer  Zeb  Turner  interposed. 

"Say,  Mr.  Reeve,"  he  drawled,  "I  wondered 
why  in  thunder  you  wanted  to  know  just  how 
many  jurymen  wuz  to  dinner  this  noon.  But, 
gosh !  I  'd  never  guessed  you  wuz  keepin'  tabs 
on  'em  for  Mr.  Brundage!  Wuz  it  you  that 
passed  the  paper  up  to  him  in  court,  sir*?" 


CHAPTER  X 

IN  OPEN  COURT 

"Why  should  not  Conscience  have  vacation 
As  well  as  other  courts  o'  th'  nation? 
Have  equal  power  to  adjourn, 
Appoint  appearance  and  return? 

Butler. 

HAD  it  not  been  for  the  words  "Judge's 
Chambers"  plainly  printed  on  its  door,  a 
stranger  entering  the  judicial  sanctum  of  the  Cir- 
cuit Court  at  Belo  might  have  suspected  that  he 
had  accidentally  strayed  into  the  official  junk 
shop  of  the  county  seat.  Certainly  the  place 
looked  more  like  a  lumber-room  than  a  private 
office,  and  every  session  of  the  court  added  to  the 
discomfort  of  those  for  whose  accommodation  it 
had  been  designed.  But  none  of  the  visiting 
jurists  ever  ventured  to  disturb  even  the  dust 

116 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

upon  its  shelves  for  fear  of  destroying  something 
of  value  belonging  to  an  associate,  and  the  nat- 
ural result  was  an  accumulation  of  material 
which  taxed  the  limit  of  its  capacity. 

Great  bundles  of  papers  were  tumbled  in  crazy 
heaps  upon  the  floor;  columns  of  the  Congres- 
sional Record  reared  drunkenly  toward  the  ceil- 
ing; stacks  of  stenographic  minutes  crowned  the 
bookcases;  maps,  blue-prints,  surveys,  photo- 
graphs, broken  umbrellas,  odd  overshoes,  models, 
wrecked  typewriters,  discarded  hats,  bits  of  ma- 
chinery, and  other  exhibits  from  long-forgotten 
lawsuits  occupied  every  nook  and  corner;  the 
shelves  sagged  under  the  weight  of  ponderous 
legal  tomes  in  flaking  and  peeling  sheepskin 
covers,  showing  here  and  there  a  gap  (like  a  miss- 
ing tooth)  filled  with  a  wedge  of  yellowing  docu- 
ments; the  roll-top  desk  was  almost  hidden  be- 
hind a  rampart  of  papers  weakened  in  spots  by  the 
bursting  of  elastic  bands;  the  floor  was  littered 
with  sheets  spilled  from  the  loose  piles  of  official 
stationery;  and  in  the  midst  of  all  this  welter, 
with  barely  more  than  elbow-room,  sat  the  Hon. 
Jacob  Kinsley,  supreme  exponent  of  the  law,  for 

117 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

the   time  being,   in   Fraser  County,   and  Abner 
Saltus,  his  confidential  clerk. 

Political  necessity  is  notorious  for  all  sorts  of 
strange  alliances,  but  it  probably  never  paired 
two  more  hopelessly  uncongenial  human  beings 
than  the  Judge  and  his  right-hand  man,  and  years 
of  daily  contact  had  failed  to  create  any  bond  of 
sympathy  between  them.  In  Kinsley's  eyes  Sal- 
tus was  nothing  but  a  coarse-grained  political 
hack  whom  Fate,  in  the  guise  of  party  expediency, 
had  forced  upon  him;  and  to  Saltus  his  Honor 
was  merely  a  pompous  outsider  who  gave  himself 
superior  airs  on  the  strength  of  a  political  acci- 
dent. Opportunities  for  correcting  these  early 
impressions  of  each  other  had  not  been  lacking  to 
either  man.  That  the  Judge  had  neglected  more 
than  one  opportunity  for  removing  his  obnoxious 
subordinate  was  no  secret  to  the  clerk — that  the 
clerk  had  again  and  again  saved  the  judicial  repu- 
tation of  his  chief  by  detecting  legal  "jokers"  in 
the  papers  submitted  for  his  signature  was  fully 
comprehended  by  the  Judge.  But  neither  the 
generosity  of  the  one  nor  the  watch-dog  virtues 
of  the  other  served  to  effect  anything  more  than 

118 


an  armed  truce,  between  them  until  the  term  for 
which  Kinsley  had  been  elected  was  drawing  to 
a  close.  Then  self-interest  had  prompted  Saltus 
to  make  the  Judge's  cause  his  own;  but  while  his 
Honor  did  not  underestimate  the  value  of  this 
support,  he  inwardly  resented  having  anything  in 
common  with  the  ferret-faced  limb  of  the  law 
who  had  chosen  to  squire  him  in  the  fight  for  his 
official  life. 

That  he  would  ever  desire  a  renomination  had 
seemed  impossible  to  Kinsley  during  the  early 
years  of  his  career  upon  the  bench.  Indeed,  he 
had  often  been  heard  to  remark  in  those  days  that 
he  would  "far  rather  be  a  lawyer  who  voluntarily 
appeared  in  court  against  one  opponent  at  a  time 
than  a  judge  who  was  forced  to  practise  law 
against  all  the  Bar  at  once."  But  that  bitter  cyni- 
cism dated  from  the  period  when  the  unscrupu- 
lous element  of  the  profession  and  his  political 
enemies  had  attempted  to  blast  his  judicial  ca- 
reer and  had  succeeded  in  unnerving  him  to  such 
an  extent  that  for  months  he  had  never  put  his 
pen  to  paper  without  fearing  the  explosion  of 
some  legal  mine.  This  rough  initiation  into  his 

119 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

new  duties  had  at  first  utterly  disgusted  him  with 
public  service,  but  the  ugly  necessity  of  guarding 
himself  from  the  tricks  of  the  trade  soon  resulted 
in  his  complete  estrangement  from  the  Bar,  and  he 
began  to  take  a  sort  of  fierce  joy  in  wielding  the 
vast  powers  at  his  command.  Then  he  gradually 
realized  that  the  expiration  of  his  term  would  find 
him  professionally  isolated,  clientless,  and  well 
advanced  in  age,  and  before  long  the  very  thought 
of  surrendering  his  mighty  office  filled  him  with 
a  sickly  dread.  It  was  not  surprising,  therefore, 
that  he  had  kept  in  close  touch  with  politics  as  a 
means  of  insuring  the  retention  of  his  post;  and 
this  ambition  had,  little  by  little,  become  the  all- 
absorbing  passion  of  his  life.  Indeed,  every 
word  he  had  uttered  and  every  step  he  had  taken 
for  years  had  been  carefully  considered  with  a 
view  to  his  coming  candidacy,  and  no  mariner 
ever  watched  his  barometer  more  keenly  than 
Kinsley  watched  the  trend  of  public  opinion  in 
the  press. 

It  was  this  engrossing  task  that  occupied  him 
and  his  subordinate  as  they  sat  in  the  disordered 
chambers  before  the  opening  of  court  on  the  morn- 

120 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

ing  set  for  the  trial  of  Gedney's  case.  There 
was  only  one  available  chair  in  the  room,  and 
Kinsley  occupied  this,  while  Saltus  perched  on 
the  seat  of  a  mowing-machine  which  had  recently 
figured  in  a  jury  case.  Between  them,  in  a  small 
clearing  on  the  rubbish-strewn  desk,  lay  a  bundle 
of  newspaper  clippings  from  which  they  helped 
themselves  at  will,  rapidly  scanning  each  slip  be- 
fore laying  it  aside  or  throwing  it  on  the  already 
littered  floor.  For  a  time  neither  man  paused  in 
his  work  or  uttered  a  comment  of  any  kind. 
Even  when  Saltus  at  last  thrust  one  of  his  slips 
toward  his  chief,  he  did  so  without  speaking  or 
looking  up,  and  the  Judge  took  the  paper  me- 
chanically without  raising  his  eyes  from  his  own 
reading.  Then  he  brushed  the  clipping  he  had 
been  perusing  to  the  floor,  glanced  at  the  half- 
column  of  fine  print  that  had  been  handed  him, 
and  frowned  impatiently. 

"Well,  what 's  all  this*?"  he  demanded  sharply. 

Saltus  rolled  an  unlighted  cigar  from  one  side 
of  his  mouth  to  the  other,  crushed  the  slip  he  was 
reading  into  a  pellet,  flicked  it  away  and  picked  up 
another. 

121 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"It 's  the  same  old  thing,"  he  answered,  re- 
suming his  reading.  "A  lot  of  drool  about  Ged- 
ney's  case.  He  's  evidently  going  to  try  it  in  the 
newspapers,  since  he  can't  do  it  in  the  court. 
That 's  the  third  reference  to  it  I  Jve  come  across 
this  morning,  and  I  '11  bet  there  's  more  of  'em  in 
this  batch.  By  Jiminy!  I  win  already  for 
here  's  another.  It 's  a  bit  shorter  than  the  one 
you  've  got.  Want  to  hear  it*?" 

The  Judge  nodded. 

"What  is  it  from*?"  he  inquired,  indolently. 

"Crosby  Forks'  Record"  responded  the  clerk. 
"Some  fellow  who  signs  himself  'An  Observer'  is 
addressing  the  editor. 

"  'Sir?  he  writes,  'as  an  illustration  of  the  ad- 
ministration of  justice  in  this  county,  let  me  call 
your  attention  to  the  case  of  the  'Farmers''  Supply 
Co.  vs.  Gedney  &  Son  now  on  the  Circuit  calen- 
dar at  Belo.  This  cause  is  the  outgrowth  of  a 
trade  war  with  the  history  of  which  most  people 
in  our  community  are  tolerably  familiar.  I  do 
not  profess  to  know  the  merits  of  the  controversy^ 
but  it  is  apparent  to  everybody  that  the  corpora- 
tion which  brought  the  suit  and  presumably  de- 

122 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

sired  to  submit  its  rights  to  the  court  is  not 
anxious  to  proceed  to  trial,  while  the  other  side  is 
straining  every  nerve  to  gain  a  public  hearing.  I 
know  what  I  am  talking  about,  for  I  have  at- 
tended the  last  five  sessions  of  the  court  and  this 
case  has  been  on  the  calendar  each  term,  only  to 
be  adjourned  at  the  instance  of  the  plaintiff  and 
against  the  "protest  of  the  defendants.  Yester- 
day I  took  occasion  to  examine  the  records  in  the 
County  Clerk's  office,  and  I  find  that  during  the 
past  year  there  have  been  eight  motions  and  three 
appeals  argued  in  this  case  on  technical  points  of 
pleading  and  practice  in  no  way  involving  the 
facts  in  dispute,  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  the 
sole  purpose  of  these  manceuvers  has  been  to  sub- 
ject the  defendants  to  annoyance  and  delay.  I 
hold  no  brief  for  those  gentlemen,  with  whom  I 
am  not  personally  acquainted,  but  if  the  law  can 
be  juggled  in  this  fashion  no  business  man  is  safe, 
for  he  is  liable  to  be  haled  into  court  and  have 
his  business  interfered  with,  if  not  ruined,  by  any 
unscrupulous  rival  with  sufficient  resources  to  drag 
him  through  a  long  litigation.  Such  mockeries  of 
justice  will  effect  a  revolution  in  our  form  of  gov- 

123 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

ernment   if   we   suffer   them   to   continue   much 
longer' ' 

Saltus  laid  aside  the  clipping  and  glanced  in- 
quiringly at  his  auditor. 

"I  reckon  that  'Observer'  used  his  ears  as  well 
as  his  eyes,"  he  commented. 

"But  not  his  brains,"  snapped  the  Judge.  "If 
that  is  meant  for  an  attack  on  me,  it  *s  wide  of  its 
mark.  Anybody  but  a  fool  should  know  that 
the  law  is  made  by  the  lawyers  and  for  the  law- 
yers. It 's  the  business  of  a  judge  to  administer 
the  law  as  he  finds  it  and  not  as  he  might  wish  it 
to  be." 

There  was  a  note  of  defiant  finality  in  Kins- 
ley's voice,  but  his  subordinate  did  not  appear  to 
be  particularly  impressed. 

"Um !  Seems  to  me  I  've  heard  something  like 
that  before,"  he  droned,  and  for  a  few  moments 
he  continued  skimming  the  sheaf  of  clippings  in 
his  hands.  Then  he  rapidly  extracted  half  a 
dozen  of  the  slips  and  shoved  them  toward  his 
chief. 

"They  're  squibbing  us  for  fair  on  this  thing, 
Judge,"  he  commented. 

124 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

Kinsley  inwardly  winced  at  the  word  "us,"  but 
he  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It's  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me,"  he  ob- 
served as  he  glanced  at  the  items.  "The  case  is 
at  the  head  of  to-day's  calendar,  and  it  will  be 
either  settled  or  tried  this  morning.  So  don't 
waste  time  on  what  will  soon  be  ancient  history. 
This  is  a  very  interesting  review  of  my  record," 
he  continued.  "You  see,  it  tabulates  my  equity 
cases  and  my  jury  cases  separately,  proving  that 
I  have  been  less  frequently  reversed  in  the  higher 
courts  than  any  other  judge  in  each  class  of  work. 
My  percentages  show  up  even  better  this  way,  I 
think." 

"Urn!" 

Saltus  glanced  disinterestedly  at  the  proffered 
clipping  and  shot  a  swift  side-glance  at  the 
speaker. 

"Do  you  mean  what  you  said  just  now, 
Judge?"  he  queried,  as  he  bit  the  end  off  his  cigar 
and  groped  in  his  pocket  for  a  match,  which  he 
found  only  after  several  futile  attempts. 

Kinsley  frowned  impatiently. 

"Mean  what1?"  he  demanded. 
125 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"That  you  're  going  to  try  Gedney's  case  this 
morning1?" 

"Yes,  if  it  is  n't  settled." 

The  clerk  whistled  a  few  notes  of  a  popular 
song,  slipped  from  his  perch,  and,  lighting  his 
cigar,  stood  silently  puffing  it  as  he  leaned  against 
the  desk  watching  his  chief. 

"You  have  n't  forgotten  what  I  told  you  was 
happening  down  at  the  Forks  day  before  yester- 
day, have  you,  Judge?"  he  inquired,  after  a 
pause. 

Kinsley  raised  his  head,  and,  pushing  up  his 
spectacles,  pressed  his  fingers  to  his  eyes  for  a  mo- 
ment as  though  reflecting. 

"You  mean  about  the  Supply  Company  people 
taking  an  interest  in  the  primaries,"  he  observed. 
"Well,  what  of  it?" 

Saltus's  eyes  narrowed  ominously. 

"What  of  it?"  he  repeated.  "Say,  Judge, 
can't  you  and  me  talk  man-talk?  .  .  .  Oh,  well, 
never  mind!"  he  continued,  impatiently,  as  he 
noted  Kinsley's  haughty  glance.  "Play  the  game 
every  way  you  like,  but  don't  let 's  misunderstand 
signals.  Listen  to  this  item  from  the  Record: 

126 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

"  'The  Honorable  Wallace  Dunham,  familiarly 
known  to  the  metropolitan  Bar  as  the  Resurrec- 
tionist, stopped  at  the  Forks  last  Wednesday  on 
his  way  to  the  Circuit  Court  at  Belo,  where  he  is 
to  represent  the  Farmers'  Supply  Company  in  its 
case  against  Gedney  &  Son,  whose  interests  are 
in  charge  of  Mr.  Richard  Poinder  of  this  county. 
An  exciting  legal  battle  is  expected  when  these 
two  champions  meet' ' 

His  Honor  readjusted  his  spectacles  as  the  clerk 
paused,  and,  picking  up  another  clipping,  re- 
sumed his  reading. 

"That  is  not  exactly  what  you  would  call 
news,  is  it*?"  he  inquired,  indulgently,  whimsi- 
cally. 

Saltus  shook  his  head. 

"No,  it 's  corroboration  of  what  I  told  you 
two  days  ago,"  he  retorted,  sharply.  "You 
know  Wallace  Dunham's  position  in  the  party 
as  well  as  I  do,  and  when  the  Supply  people  get 
him  to  stay  over  a  night  at  the  Forks  it  means 
business.  I  tell  you  they  don't  intend  to  have 
the  Gedney  case  tried  this  term,  and  if  it  is 
they  're  going  to  give  you  the  fight  of  your  life. 

127 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Oh,  I  know  you  don't  like  plain  talk,  Judge,  but 
what 's  the  sense  of  mincing  matters'?" 

An  angry  flush  spread  over  Kinsley's  sallow 
countenance. 

"Let  us  drop  the  subject,  if  you  please,  Mr. 
Saltus,"  he  remarked.  "I  've  told  you  a  great 
many  times  that  I  will  not  listen  to  kitchen  gos- 
sip. Here  's  another  original  analysis  of  my  rec- 
ord," he  continued  hastily.  "It 's  rather  clever, 
I  think.  The  writer  has  examined  all  the  opin- 
ions of  the  appellate  courts,  and  states  that  I  have 
been  reversed  only  six  times  on  questions  involv- 
ing the  admission  or  exclusion  of  evidence." 

He  held  out  a  clipping  as  he  spoke,  but  Saltus 
made  no  motion  to  take  it. 

"Kitchen  gossip1?"  he  repeated,  harking  back 
to  the  offensive  words.  "You  know  of  your  own 
knowledge,  Judge,  that  Artemus  Peck,  the  Supply 
people's  attorney,  has  been  hanging  around  head- 
quarters for  weeks,  and  what  I  'm  telling  you 
comes  from  a  young  fellow  I  met  there  not  long 
ago  who  turns  out  to  be  a  sort  of  confidential 
secretary  for  the  Resurrectionist  himself.  Could 
I  get  it  any  straighter*?" 

128 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

Kinsley  twisted  his  swing  chair  toward  the 
desk,  and,  clearing  a  small  space  for  his  official 
letter  pad,  began  writing  a  note. 

"You  tell  your  informant,"  he  directed  over 
his  shoulder,  "that  any  one  who  attempts  to  in- 
fluence the  disposition  of  a  case  on  Judge  Kinsley's 
calendar  had  best  look  to  his  own  safety.  But 
don't  bring  me  his  answer,"  he  added.  "I  don't 
want  to  hear  anything  more  about  this  matter." 

Saltus  nodded  sneeringly,  and,  retiring  to  his 
seat,  began  sorting  his  papers  into  convenient 
piles. 

"Then,  of  course,  you  don't  want  to  hear  what 
a  hole  those  city  people  have  got  themselves  into 
by  playing  politics  in  the  country,"  he  remarked, 
and  waited  for  an  invitation  to  proceed. 

But  his  Honor  continued  his  correspondence 
without  displaying  the  slightest  curiosity,  and  his 
indifference  obviously  nettled  the  clerk. 

"Maybe  you  think  it 's  more  "kitchen  gossip,'  " 
he  observed,  "and  it  is  almost  too  funny  to  be 
true.  But  the  whole  thing  in  a  nutshell  is  that 
the  opposition  which  the  Supply  folks  have  been 
stirring  up  against  you  has  run  away  with  it  by 

129 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

concentrating  on  Richard  Poinder  as  the  most 
available  candidate." 

The  Judge  stopped  writing  and  half  turned  in 
his  chair. 

"Think  of  them  sticking  their  fingers  into  our 
pie  and  picking  out  Gedney's  attorney  as  the 
plum!"  continued  Saltus,  with  a  chuckle.  "It 
sounds  impossible,  but  it 's  a  positive  fact." 

His  Honor  swung  toward  the  desk  again  and 
dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink. 

"Yes,  I  heard  that  a  day  or  two  ago,"  he  re- 
sponded, quietly.  "It 's  very  amusing." 

For  a  moment  the  clerk  regarded  his  superior 
with  the  deeply  injured  air  of  one  who  finds  his 
news  is  already  known  and  his  surprise  a  failure. 
Then  he  nodded  knowingly  at  the  broad  back  op- 
posed to  him. 

"It 's  a  good  joke  all  right  as  long  as  nobody 
takes  it  too  seriously,"  he  remarked,  significantly. 
"But  when  I  was  at  the  Reeve  House  last  night  I 
overheard  Old  Man  Reeve  bet  Foster  ten  dollars 
that  Poinder  would  fight  for  the  nomination  tooth 
and  nail  if  Gedney's  case  were  n't  tried  this  term. 
I  guess  you  've  heard  that  too — have  n't  you, 

130 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

Judge*?"  he  continued,  malevolently,  "and  that's 
why  you  've  decided  to  try  the  case  this  morning. 
Eh?' 

Kinsley  swung  slowly  toward  the  speaker. 

"Have  you  been  drinking?"  he  demanded, 
sternly. 

Saltus  laughed. 

"No,  I  've  been  thinking,"  he  retorted  coolly. 
"What 's  the  use  of  our  trying  to  fool  each  other, 
Judge?  Let's  get  down  to  business  and  talk 
right  out  in  meeting.  Here  's  the  Supply  people 
getting  ready  to  dump  our  apple-cart  if  you  try 
their  case,  and  Poinder  threatening  to  do  the  same 
or  worse  if  you  don't  try  it.  That 's  a  pretty  raw 
deal  for  us.  But  one  thing 's  certain.  You 
can't  please  both  parties.  You  've  got  to  work 
with  the  one  that 's  least  dangerous,  and  I  know 
what  I  'm  talking  about  when  I  tell  you  to  stick 
to  the  Supply  people  and  let  Poinder  go  to  thun- 
der. All  his  newspaper  squibbing  and  opposition 
talk  is  meant  to  scare  you  into  trying  his  case, 
Judge.  He  would  n't  take  the  nomination  if  it 
was  handed  to  him  on  a  silver  plate,  let  alone 
fight  for  it.  He  might  make  a  pass  at  running 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

just  to  force  your  hand,  but  he  would  n't  give  up 
a  good  practice  and  retire  to  the  Bench  just  to 
spite  you.  And  Old  Man  Reeve  knows  that,  too. 
He  made  that  bet  and  let  me  overhear  it  for  your 
benefit.  That  was  a  good  trick  when  it  was  new, 
but  this  ain't  my  first  campaign,  and  you  can  take 
it  from  me  that  it 's  all  part  of  the  same  big  bluff. 
But  there  's  no  nonsense  about  the  Supply  people. 
They  mean  business,  and  they  '11  camp  on  your 
trail  till  they  get  you  if  you  give  'em  trouble. 
This  ain't  their  only  lawsuit.  They  want  to  know 
who 's  who  on  the  Bench,  and  if  you  've  got  it 
in  for  them  they  '11  double-cross  you  no  matter 
what  it  costs.  No,  sir,  don't  you  try  to  plow  them 
under;  you  listen  to  me — " 

"Don't  you  think  I  've  listened  to  you  about 
long  enough,  Mr.  Saltus*?" 

The  clerk  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  stared  of- 
fensively at  the  speaker. 

"I  don't  know,  Judge,"  he  responded,  inso- 
lently. "I  've  a  notion  that  Poinder  and  his 
squibbing  have  got  on  your  nerves  and  given  you 
a  hunch  that  public  opinion  demands  the  trial  of 
this  Gedney  case." 

132 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

"It  has  certainly  been  too  long  on  the  calendar 
of  my  Court,  sir." 

Saltus  shot  a  menacing  glance  at  the  speaker. 

"Oh,  you  think  so,  do  you,"  he  sneered. 
"Well,  you  did  n't  think  that  way  yesterday 
morning  when  you  adjourned  it  to  suit  the  Resur- 
rectionist, nor  yesterday  afternoon  when  Corn- 
ing's  case  threatened  to  block  the  calendar  for  the 
rest  of  the  term.  But  if  you  've  changed  your 
opinion  since  then  and  have  decided — " 

"I  've  decided  nothing,  sir,"  interrupted  Kins- 
ley, petulantly.  "My  decisions  are  made  in  open 
court  and  nowhere  else.  When  the  matter  comes 
up  there  I  shall  dispose  of  it  then  and  not  until 
then.  Do  you  understand1?" 

Saltus  nodded. 

"Of  course,"  he  assented,  with  a  cunning  leer. 
"But  I  thought  you  said  you  'd  made  up  your 
mind  to  try  the  case  this  morning,  and  that  kinder 
scared  me.  Deciding  things  in  open  court  is  all 
right,  Judge,  but  thinking  them  over  in  private 
is  looking  before  you  're  leaped  on,  and  I  've 
given  you  the  facts." 

"To  which  I  shall  pay  not  the  slightest  atten- 

133 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

tion,  Mr.  Saltus,"  retorted  the  Judge,  decisively. 
"Meanwhile  I  advise  you,  sir,  to  confine  yourself 
strictly  to  your  own  business,"  he  continued, 
warningly. 

The  crafty  expression  of  the  clerk's  face  in- 
stantly deepened  to  an  angry  scowl. 

"My  own  business !"  he  snarled.  "Since  when 
has  your  nomination  been  none  of  my  business, 
Judge?  Ain't  we  in  the  same  boat?  And  do 
you  suppose  I  'm  going  to  keep  my  mouth  shut 
when  I  see  the  Supply  people  getting  ready  to 
scuttle  the  ship  right  under  my  eyes  ?  Well,  I  'm 
not  built  that  way !" 

Kinsley  rose  and  calmly  faced  the  speaker. 

"You  are  suffering  from  an  excess  of  zeal,  sir," 
he  observed,  judicially.  "And  an  excess  of  zeal  at 
this  crisis  will  merely  serve  to  injure  you  and — 
and  your  friends.  Is  there  anything  in  the  clip- 
pings you  've  examined  that  requires  my  imme- 
diate attention?" 

Saltus  glowered  at  his  chief  for  a  moment  in 
silence  and  then  shook  his  head  with  a  surly 
frown. 

"Guess  not,"  he  muttered. 
134 


IN  OPEN  COURT 

"Then  please  put  these  in  my  scrap-book.  I  'm 
going  over  to  the  hotel  for  a  while,  but  I  '11  be 
back  in  time  to  open  court  at  the  usual  hour." 

His  Honor  laid  a  number  of  slips  on  the  desk 
shelf  as  he  spoke,  and  picking  up  his  hat,  strode 
from  the  room. 


13* 


CHAPTER  XI 

FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  RECORD 

"What  dotage  will  not  Vanity  maintain? 
What  web  too  weak  to  catch  a  modern  brain  ?" 

Cowper. 

FOR  a  few  moments  after  the  door  closed  Sal- 
tus  continued  glaring  at  it  in  moody  silence. 
Then  he  slipped  down  from  his  perch  on  the  mow- 
ing-machine, and,  seating  himself  in  the  swing 
chair  and  pulling  a  huge  scrap-book  from  the  re- 
volving bookcase  beside  him,  slammed  it  open 
with  angry  impatience. 

"Ha!"  he  scoffed,  as  an  item  caught  his  eye. 
"Judge  Kinsley  is  a  'fearless  advocate'  of  some- 
thing or  other,  is  he?  Yes,  I  guess  not!  Spunk 
of  a  rabbit 's  about  his  size.  Curse  you !"  he  mut- 
tered to  the  book.  "I  '11  break  you  in  two  if  you 
don't  stay  open !" 

He  crushed  back  the  covers  of  the  offending 
136 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  RECORD 

volume  as  he  spoke,  and,  creasing  the  pages  with 
his  arm,  glared  resentfully  at  their  contents. 

.  .  .  What  was  the  use  of  keeping  up  these 
fool  press  notices  if  the  Old  High-Cockalorum 
was  going  to  buck  the  Supply  folks?  They'd 
provide  material  for  his  obituary,  but  that's  all 
they  would  be  good  for  if  he  was  bent  on  commit- 
ting political  suicide.  Of  course  he  had  a  perfect 
right  to  cut  his  own  throat  if  he  was  fool  enough 
to  do  it.  But  he  'd  have  to  cut  other  people's  into 
the  bargain,  and  he  'd  do  it  without  giving  them  a 
thought.  He  always  had  been  a  selfish  hog  who 
thought  the  world  began  and  ended  with  him. 
Look  at  the  kind  of  piffle  he  stuffed  this  book 
with !  "Judge  Kinsley  is  a  great  lover  of  fiction." 
Is  he?  You  bet  he  is!  Especially  about  him- 
self! .  .  .  "Noted  for  his  courtesy  and  considera- 
tion" indeed!  Yes,  consideration  for  himself. 
Up  to  date  he  'd  always  managed  to  look  out  for 
Number  One  pretty  sharply.  .  .  .  What  was  the 
matter  with  him  now?  He  'd  been  dead  set  on 
getting  the  renomination  for  years,  and  he  was  n't 
fool  enough  to  think  he  could  get  it  if  he  fought 
the  Resurrectionist  and  his  crowd.  He  had  n't 

137 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

the  spunk  to  fight,  anyway.  He  'd  never  been 
anything  but  a  looking-glass  fighter  and  a  bluffer 
all  his  life.  .  .  .  Maybe  he  was  bluffing  now"? 
Yesterday  morning  he  'd  given  the  Resurrectionist 
a  day's  adjournment,  and  in  the  afternoon  he  'd 
apparently  tried  to  block  the  calendar  by  taking  up 
the  trial  of  a  protracted  cause.  That  was  playing 
the  game  safe  just  as  he  always  played  it.  ... 
But  this  morning?  .  .  .  This  morning  he  'd  evi- 
dently swung  around.  .  .  . 

Saltus  paused  in  his  bitter  reflections  and  struck 
the  bunch  of  clippings  with  his  fist. 

...  It  was  all  this  rotten  squibbing  nonsense 
that  had  done  the  business !  If  the  old  nincom- 
poop had  n't  seen  that  stuff  he  would  n't  have  lost 
his  nerve!  He  was  just  jackass  enough  to  get 
panic-stricken  at  a  crisis  and  run  in  the  wrong  di- 
rection. Of  course  Poinder  could  beat  him  to  a 
pulp  if  he  really  wanted  to  fight  for  the  nomina- 
tion, but  nobody  except  a  fool  would  believe  that 
Poinder  would  even  cross  the  street  to  get  it.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  was  a  hundred  to  one  that  the 
Supply  folks  would  fight  from  the  drop  of  the  hat ! 
Only  a  dare-devil  would  take  a  risk  like  that. 

138 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  RECORD 

And  Kinsley  wasn't  that  kind  of  a  devil.  He 
never  took  a  chance  of  any  kind  if  he  could  help 
it.  ...  Here  was  another  of  his  favorite  "rec- 
ord" notices,  informing  the  great  and  gullible  pub- 
lic that  he  had  been  reversed  only  fourteen  times 
during  his  ten  years  upon  the  bench,  one  less  in 
the  aggregate  than  any  other  jurist  in  the  State. 
If  there  was  one  of  those  notices  in  the  book,  there 
were  a  hundred !  What  fun  could  the  old  bluffer 
get  out  of  collecting  repetitions  of  that  puff?  His 
"record,"  indeed!  You  might  think  it  really 
amounted  to  something,  the  way  he  'd  nursed  and 
coddled  and  played  for  it  all  these  years.  How 
could  he  fool  himself  with  it1?  But  he  did.  He 
thought  it  proved  that  he  was  a  great  jurist !  And 
how  had  he  got  this  wonderful  "record"  ?  Simply 
by  tying  strings  to  all  his  rulings  and  practising 
close  to  his  chest  and  wabbling  around  so  that  no- 
body but  an  expert  could  ever  get  a  clean-cut  ex- 
ception into  the  minutes  of  any  trial.  There 
were  n't  many  experts  in  Fraser  County,  but,  by 
Jiminy !  the  Resurrectionist  was  the  king  of  them 
all  and  he  was  on  deck  now !  He  would  n't  do  a 
thing  to  his  Honor's  curves,  would  he?  Why, 

139 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

he  'd  bat  the  miserable  old  faker  out  of  the  box 
and  out  of  his  mind  in  about  fifteen  seconds! 
Nothing  could  save  his  precious  "record"  if  Wal- 
lace Dunham  once  stepped  to  the  plate.  Noth- 
ing"? .  .  .  Nothing"?  .  .  .  Well,  of  course,  if  a 
lot  of  ugly  looking  exceptions  were  taken  to  his 
rulings  he  might  be  scared.  .  .  .  And  if  he  got 
scared  he  might  .  .  .  ? — He  might  try  to  save 
his  beloved  "record" ! 

Saltus's  thought  stopped. 

.  .  .  Was  it  possible  that  Kinsley  had  this 
crafty  scheme  in  mind^  By  the  Lord  High 
Harry!  That  would  be  playing  it  "both  sides 
and  down  the  middle !"  And  it  'd  be  safe !  Ab- 
solutely safe.  As  safe  as  ... 

"Now,  Mr.  Saltus." 

The  clerk  sprang  to  his  feet  as  though  startled 
from  a  dream,  stared  at  the  Judge  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  quickly  stuffing  the  clippings  into  his 
pocket,  hurried  to  the  private  hallway,  and,  partly 
opening  the  court-room  door,  banged  on  its  panels 
with  his  fists  to  advise  the  waiting  public  that  the 
Honorable  Jacob  Kinsley  was  about  to  take  his 
seat  upon  the  Bench. 

140 


CHAPTER  XII 

PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

"What  cannot  be  carried  by  frontal  assault  often 
readily  yields  to  a  flanking  attack." 

Axioms  of  Strategy 

'TJEAR  ye!  Hear  ye!  Hear  ye!  All-per- 
A  A  sons  -  havin'  -  bus'ness  -  with  -  this  -  Circuit  - 
Court-held-in-an'-for-the-County-of-Fraser-  draw- 
near  -  an'-  give  -  your-' tendon  -  an'-  you  -  shall-be 
heard!" 

Mr.  Justice  Kinsley  slipped  into  his  capacious 
chair  as  the  crier  concluded  his  gabbled  formula, 
and,  with  a  curt  nod  to  the  Bar  and  general  pub- 
lic, picked  up  the  printed  calendar  sheet  lying  be- 
fore him  on  the  official  desk. 

"No.  i.  Farmers'  Supply  Co.  vs.  Gedney?' 
he  announced  inquiringly. 

"Ready  for  the  defendants!" 

Every  one  in  the  audience  recognized  the 
141 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

speaker,  for  Richard  Poinder  was  widely  known 
throughout  the  county,  and  his  almost  defiant  re- 
sponse in  the  case  at  bar  had  long  since  become 
familiar  to  the  court." 

"I  fear  we  must  again  ask  your  Honor  for  in- 
dulgence." 

The  Judge  glanced  up  to  find  the  rat-like  face 
of  Artemus  Peck  projected  from  the  human  back- 
ground of  the  crowded  room.  There  was  nothing 
surprising  in  his  plea.  Indeed,  he  had  uttered  it 
so  often  on  behalf  of  the  Supply  Company  that 
any  other  reply  would  have  startled  the  audience, 
and  Kinsley  was  disagreeably  conscious  of  some- 
thing very  like  a  titter  as  the  spectators  stirred 
and  rustled  in  their  seats.  He  took  no  notice  of 
the  sound,  however,  but  nodded  gravely  at  the 
speaker. 

"It  is  with  extreme  regret  that  I  have  to  an- 
nounce the  serious  illness  of  my  colleague  in  this 
case,  your  Honor,"  the  attorney  continued.  "Mr. 
Dunham  was  feeling  far  from  well  yesterday 
when  he  attended  court,  but  I  hoped  that  he  would 
be  sufficiently  recovered  this  morning  to  proceed 
with  the  trial  of  this  cause.  At  the  last  moment, 

142 


PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

however,  his  physician  has  positively  forbidden 
him  to  attempt  it,  and  I  have  here  a  written  cer- 
tificate to  that  effect." 

He  handed  a  letter  to  the  clerk  as  he  spoke,  and 
the  official  laid  it  upon  the  judicial  desk,  while 
the  audience  waited  in  breathless  silence  as  the 
Judge,  slowly  adjusting  his  glasses,  opened  the 
envelope  and  peered  at  its  contents.  From  his 
desk  beside  the  rail  guarding  the  Bench  Abner 
Saltus  glanced  sharply  at  his  chief  and  then  al- 
lowed his  gaze  to  wander  over  the  room.  Near 
the  counsel's  table  he  could  see  Mr.  Poinder  whis- 
pering earnestly  to  his  white-haired  little  client, 
whose  worn  face  and  trembling  hands  showed  the 
strained  tension  of  his  nerves,  and  close  by  them 
he  noticed  the  ponderous  form  of  Old  Man  Reeve. 
It  always  disquieted  the  clerk  to  encounter  Peter 
Reeve's  owl-like  stare,  and,  quickly  avoiding  his 
gaze,  he  rapidly  scanned  the  public  benches.  The 
Bar  of  Fraser  County  was  certainly  well  repre- 
sented, he  reflected,  as  he  recognized  Mr.  Foster 
and  young  Corning,  Mr.  Brundage,  the  State's 
Attorney,  Dick  Warren,  Bob  Hixon,  and  scores 
of  other  familiar  faces.  In  fact,  the  entire  popu- 

H3 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

lation  of  Belo  had  apparently  squeezed  'itself 
within  the  building,  making  it  extremely  difficult 
to  single  out  any  particular  individual  from  the 
mass,  and  Saltus's  glance  traveled  over  the  room 
more  than  once  before  he  caught  sight  of  the  per- 
son he  was  seeking.  Then,  with  an  almost  imper- 
ceptible signal,  he  turned  to  the  Bench  again  just 
as  his  Honor  glanced  over  his  spectacles  toward 
the  counsel's  table. 

"Have  you  seen  this,  Mr.  Poinder1?"  he  in- 
quired, indicating  the  paper  in  his  hand. 

"No,  sir." 

Gedney's  counsel  did  not  rise  as  he  spoke,  and, 
barely  glancing  in  the  direction  of  the  Bench,  con- 
tinued his  whispered  consultation  with  his  client. 

"Then  you  'd  better  look  at  it." 

The  Judge  handed  the  paper  to  the  clerk,  but 
Poinder  waved  it  aside. 

"That  is  not  necessary,  your  Honor,"  he  re- 
sponded, rising  as  he  spoke.  "I  accept  the  state- 
ment of  my  learned  adversary  as  to  its  contents, 
but  I  submit  that  Mr.  Dunham's  very  regrettable 
indisposition  affords  no  sufficient  reason  for  the 
adjournment  of  this  case.  No  one  could  possibly 

144 


PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

be  more  familiar  with  it  than  Mr.  Peck,  who 
has  conducted  it,  wholly  without  assistance,  up  to 
within  the  last  four  and  twenty  hours.  With 
able  counsel  present  in  court  to  represent  its  in- 
terest, the  plaintiff  has  no  excuse  for  requesting 
your  Honor's  indulgence,  which  I  respectfully 
submit  has  already  been  somewhat  abused.  We 
are  prepared  to  proceed." 

Peck  had  risen  as  his  opponent  was  speaking, 
but  before  he  could  address  the  Court  Kinsley 
interposed. 

"An  adjournment  was  procured  yesterday,  Mr. 
Peck,  to  ascertain  if  there  was  not  some  way  of 
settling  this  controversy  out  of  court,"  he  ob- 
served. "What  was  accomplished  in  that  re- 
gard?" 

"Nothing,  your  Honor,"  responded  the  lawyer, 
"because — " 

"Because  nothing  was  attempted,"  interrupted 
Poinder,  significantly. 

A  ripple  of  laughter  ran  through  the  audience, 
which  instantly  subsided  as  Kinsley  looked  up 
sharply  and  reached  for  his  gavel. 

"That  is  a  most  uncalled-for  insinuation,"  pro- 
H5 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

tested  Peck,  with  an  indignant  glance  at  his  op- 
ponent. "Mr.  Dunham  was  taken  ill  while  he 
was  working  out  his  plan  for  adjusting  the  differ- 
ences of  the  parties,  and  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  discuss  the  subject  with  Mr.  Poinder's  clients. 
That,  as  your  Honor  has  perceived,  is  precisely  the 
point  of  my  pending  application.  I  am,  it  is  true, 
generally  familiar  with  this  litigation,  but  I  am 
not  sufficiently  conversant  with  my  colleague's 
scheme  of  settlement  to  present  the  matter  to  the 
other  side.  I  know  enough,  however,  to  advise 
the  Court  that  the  interests  of  justice  will  be  far 
better  served  by  compromise  than  by  continued 
litigation." 

The  Judge  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and,  tak- 
ing up  the  physician's  certificate,  re-examined  it 
with  care. 

"What  have  you  to  say,  Mr.  Poinder*?"  he  in- 
quired, as  he  laid  it  aside. 

"Very  little,  your  Honor,"  responded  the  law- 
yer. "I  advised  the  Court  yesterday  that  there 
was  no  compromise  in  us  short  of  the  plaintiff's 
unconditional  surrender,  and  that  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  believe  that  it  had  retained  Mr. 

146 


PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

Dunham  merely  to  haul  down  its  flag.  My  ex- 
pectations in  that  regard  have  been  fully  realized. 
No  proposition  of  any  kind  has  reached  us  from 
the  other  side,  and  we  are  one  day  nearer  the  end 
of  the  term.  It  is  idle  to  waste  further  time  or 
words  on  this  subject.  For  more  than  a  year  we 
have  met  with  nothing  but  vexatious  obstruction 
and  delay  in  this  case,"  he  continued,  gazing  stead- 
ily at  the  Bench  and  speaking  with  marked  delib- 
eration and  emphasis.  "So  vexatious,  indeed, 
that  it  has  now  achieved  an  ugly  notoriety,  reflect- 
ing most  unfortunately  upon  the  administration  of 
justice  in  this  county,  and  I  ask  your  Honor  to 
put  an  end  to  the  scandalous  practices  which  have 
not  yet  succeeded  in  exhausting  us,  but  have,  thus 
far,  defeated  our  rights." 

Peck  sprang  angrily  to  his  feet  as  his  opponent 
paused. 

"I  object  to  the  counsel's  outrageous  insinua- 
tions and  resent  his  reflections  on  the  Bench !"  he 
exclaimed.  "If  there  has  been  any  scandal  in  the 
disposition  of  this  cause,  the  Court  must  be  a  party 
to  it,  for  all  that  has  been  done  has  had  the  sanc- 
tion of  its  orders.  I  submit  that  my  learned  ad- 

H7 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

versary  forgets  himself  in  impugning  the  good 
faith  of  a  fellow-practitioner,  but  he  is  beyond  my 
censure  when  he  calls  into  question  the  honor  of 
the  Court." 

The  audience  fairly  gasped  its  astonishment  as 
the  speaker  paused,  and  Kinsley,  flushing  vio- 
lently, rapped  sharply  with  his  gavel  on  the  desk. 

"The  Court  will  maintain  its  own  dignity  and 
be  the  guardian  of  its  own  honor,  Mr.  Peck,"  he 
snapped.  "You  will  kindly  abate  your  zeal,  sir. 
Have  you  any  further  reasons  to  advance  for  a 
continuance  of  this  case*?" 

Saltus  leaned  forward  on  his  desk  and  eagerly 
studied  the  Judge's  face  as  his  Honor  uttered  this 
ominous  challenge,  but  his  attention  was  almost 
immediately  diverted  to  Peck,  who  stood  con- 
fronting the  Bench  with  an  ugly  scowl. 

"I  certainly  have  the  gravest  of  reasons,  your 
Honor,"  he  responded.  "My  client,  whose  exten- 
sive interests  in  this  community  are  a  matter  of 
common  knowledge,  regards  the  principles  in- 
volved in  this  case  as  vital  to  the  proper  prosecu- 
tion of  its  business,  and  if,  as  my  opponent  as- 
serts, there  is  no  compromise  in  his  clients,  it  de- 

148 


PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

sires  Mr.  Dunham  to  present  its  contentions  in 
person.  He  has  made  a  long  journey  expressly 
for  that  purpose  and  is  now  on  the  ground,  within 
hail  of  this  court-room,  but  is  temporarily  pre- 
vented from  appearing  before  you  by  sudden  ill- 
ness. Mr.  Poinder  does  not  dispute,  and  would 
not  dare  to  dispute,  the  accuracy  of  this  statement, 
and  it  should  be  amply  sufficient  to  sustain  my 
motion.  I  cannot  believe  that  your  Honor  will 
force  me  to  trial  under  such  circumstances,  or 
single  out  my  client  for  harsh  treatment  at  the 
instance  of  the  other  side." 

Every  tone  of  the  attorney's  voice  was  men- 
acing, and  his  eyes  never  left  the  Judge's  face  as 
he  delivered  his  appeal.  For  a  moment  there  was 
absolute  silence  in  the  Court,  and  Saltus  was  not 
the  only  observer  who  realized  that  the  fate  of 
more  than  one  person  was  hanging  in  the  balance. 
Then  Kinsley  suddenly  broke  the  tension. 

"The  administration  of  justice  can  take  no  ac- 
count of  the  convenience  of  parties,  or  distinguish 
between  them  in  any  way,"  he  announced,  with 
tightened  lips.  "Before  this  Court  every  individ- 
ual is  on  an  equal  footing.  The  defendants  are 

149 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

entitled  to  a  hearing  subject  to  the  rules  and  prac- 
tice of  the  tribunal  before  which  they  have  been 
called.  That  those  rules  and  those  practices  have 
subjected  them  to  annoyance  or  delay  is  no  reason 
for  denying  such  accommodation  to  their  oppo- 
nents as  may  to  the  Court  seem  fitting  and  proper 
in  the  exercise  of  the  discretion  reposed  in  it  by 
law." 

The  speaker  paused,  and  Saltus  felt  his  heart 
leap  with  joy  as  he  listened  to  the  sonorous  sen- 
tences. .  .  .  Thank  the  good  Lord  the  old  fool 
had  come  to  his  senses  before  it  was  too  late! 
He  was  a  bluffer  all  right,  but  he  was  playing  the 
game  well.  And  craftily  too.  It  would  be  hard 
to  handle  the  matter  much  better  than  he  was  do- 
ing. There  was  n't  a  word  of  what  he  was  saying 
that  could  n't  be  published  on  the  dead-walls 
and  .  .  . 

"But  on  this  occasion,"  proceeded  his  Honor, 
"the  Court  is  unable  to  see  that  justice  requires 
that  the  plaintiff  should  receive  the  accommoda- 
tion that  it  seeks.  One  of  its  distinguished  coun- 
sel is  ill,  but  the  other,  present  in  court,  is  fully 
conversant  with  the  case  at  bar  and  amply  com- 

150 


PLANTING  AN  EXCEPTION 

patent  to  protect  all  its  interests.  No  hardship, 
therefore,  is  involved  in  the  denial  of  its  motion 
for  a  continuance.  The  cause  is  marked  ready, 
and  the  clerk  will  call  a  jury  forthwith." 

With  a  muttered  oath  Saltus  rose,  and,  hur- 
riedly gathering  his  papers  together,  slipped 
quietly  through  the  door  behind  the  Bench. 


"Well,  you  got  my  signal,  did  you*?  I  thought 
you  were  never  coming." 

Saltus  glared  angrily  at  the  Resurrectionist's 
confidential  man  as  he  stood  confronting  him  in 
the  private  hallway. 

"I  came  as  soon  as  I  could,"  retorted  the  visitor. 
"But  what 's  the  use  of  hurrying1?  The  game  's 
up  now.  Kinsley  's  done  for  himself  and  you  too. 
What  the  devil  could  he  have  been  thinking  of?" 

"It  is  n't  what  he 's  thinking  but  what  7  'm 
thinking  that  counts  just  now,  my  son,"  snapped 
the  clerk,  thrusting  a  bunch  of  papers  into  the 
speaker's  hands.  "See  your  Boss  at  once,  give  him 
these  clippings,  tell  him  t;o  read  'em  and  hustle 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

over  to  court  and  fire  exceptions  into  the  record 
as  long  as  he  's  got  the  brain  to  invent  'em  or  the 
breath  to  puff  'em  out !" 

The  man  glanced  at  the  papers  and  then  looked 
up  uncomprehendingly. 

"What  good  '11  that  do?"  he  growled.  "Dun- 
ham does  n't  want  to  try  the  case.  He  wants  to 
delay  matters  and  keep  Gedney  &  Son  in  court 
and—" 

"Then  let  him  keep  'em  in  court !" 

"How?' 

"Tell  him  to  raise  law  points,  and  more  law 
points,  and  then  some  more  of  'em,  and  fire  ex- 
ceptions into  the  record  till  he  can't  rest !"  rattled 
Saltus,  glancing  apprehensively  over  his  shoulder. 
"What  's-the-use-of-that?  What  's-the-use  -  of- 
that?"  he  whispered,  fiercely.  "Go  and  ask  the 
Resurrectionist,  you  chattering  parrot!  Did  you 
never  see  a  judicial  wobbler  dance  to  legal  pip- 
ing*? Well,  Kinsley 's  a  wobbler  with  a  record 
to  sustain.  Hustle  and  put  your  Boss  wise,  you 
fool,  if  you  want  to  keep  your  job!" 


152 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DELIBERATE    JUSTICE 

"Quiet,  calm  deliberation 
Disentangles  many  a  knot." 

Gilbert. 

THE  jury  will  now  retire  to  consider  their 
verdict." 

A  fat  court  attendant  arose  as  Judge  Kinsley 
made  his  announcement  and,  waddling  across  the 
floor,  flung  open  the  door  of  the  jury-box  with  a 
wheezed  "This  way,  gentlemen!" 

For  a  moment  the  twelve  citizens  charged  with 
deciding  the  case  of  "The  Farm  Supply  Company 
vs.  Gedney  &  Son"  stared  at  the  speaker  like  cap- 
tive animals  hesitating  to  exchange  their  custom- 
ary quarters  for  the  freedom  of  a  new  and  unfa- 
miliar cage.  Then  the  foreman,  a  lanky  farmer 
in  rubber  boots,  began  groping  under  his  chair  for 
his  hat,  and  the  others,  acting  on  his  example, 
slowly  gathered  together  their  belongings. 

153 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

The  closely-packed  spectators  in  the  dingy 
court-room  watched  the  scene  in  silent  fascination. 
Up  to  that  moment  the  occupants  of  the  jury-box 
had  been  almost  forgotten  factors  in  the  three 
days'  desperate  fighting  which  had  marked  the  case 
at  bar.  The  hand-to-hand  struggle  between  the 
counsel  had  been  so  grimly  absorbing  that  the  lay 
public  had  had  neither  eyes  nor  ears  for  those  who 
were  finally  to  judge  the  issues  and  decide  the 
cause.  In  the  main  it  had  been  Richard  Poinder 
of  counsel  for  the  defense  who  had  dominated  the 
stage,  and  Fraser  County,  hailing  him  as  its  legal 
champion  against  all  invaders  from  the  outside 
world,  had  barely  refrained  from  giving  open  ex- 
pression to  its  delight  in  his  success.  But  Wal- 
lace Dunham  had  frequently  swept  everything  be- 
fore him  with  terrifying  force  and  had  never 
emerged  from  an  encounter  without  having  in- 
flicted serious  damage  on  his  foe.  And  the  fight- 
ing had  been  almost  incessant.  At  times  Judge 
Kinsley  had  loomed  to  the  front,  and,  parting  the 
grappling  combatants  with  rough  hand,  had  forced 
a  temporary  truce,  and  more  than  once  the  room 
had  been  hushed  with  dread  expectancy  as  a  wit- 

154 


DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 

ness  and  a  lawyer  had  stood  face  to  face  in  a  duel 
to  the  death. 

But  now  all  these  figures  had  faded  and  the 
group  in  the  jury-box  had  become  the  chief  actors 
in  the  most  bitter  controversy  ever  waged  in  the 
Circuit  Court  at  Belo.  Indeed  when  the  last  pair 
of  gloves  had  been  picked  up  and  the  last  missing 
pencil  recovered  and  they  passed  in  straggling 
procession  down  the  center  aisle  with  their  arms 
full  of  hats,  overcoats,  overshoes  and  umbrellas, 
like  tenants  escaping  from  a  fire,  every  head  in 
the  room  moved  with  them  and  every  eye  fol- 
lowed them  until  they  disappeared  through  the 
entrance  into  the  corridor.  In  fact,  the  whole 
audience  continued  mutely  staring  in  the  same  di- 
rection until  the  sound  of  a  closing  door  reached 
their  ears,  when  they  settled  back  in  their  seats 
again,  relieving  the  tension  with  a  general  re- 
laxing rustle  and  stir. 

Even  then,  however,  no  one  left  the  court  and 
the  silence  remained  unbroken  save  for  the  whis- 
pering of  Abner  Saltus,  who  had  draped  himself 
on  the  front  of  the  Bench,  and,  with  his  eyes  on 
the  audience,  was  addressing  his  Honor  behind  a 

155 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

screening  hand.  From  an  end  seat  on  the  center 
aisle  Old  Man  Reeve  strove  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion for  no  particular  reason  except  that  it  al- 
ways amused  him  to  embarrass  the  Judge's  con- 
fidential clerk  with  a  steady  stare  and  make  him 
shift  his  gaze.  But  the  man  continued  his  con- 
versation undisturbed,  and  the  host  of  the  Reeve 
House  finally  desisted  and  pulling  out  his  watch, 
held  it  so  that  Eph  Bisland,  who  sat  beside  him, 
could  note  the  time.  The  young  farmer  compared 
it  with  his  own  watch  and  nodded. 

"That's  'bout  right,"  he  whispered.  "Three 
thirty-one  by  mine.  What  of  it,  Pete*?" 

"Betcher  they  '11  be  back  here  in  less  'n  fifteen 
minutes,"  explained  the  old  man,  with  a  jerk  of 
his  thumb  toward  the  jury-room. 

His  companion  shook  his  head. 

"Not  ef  they  're  as  slow  at  ballotin'  as  they 
wuz  at  leavin'  the  box,"  he  asserted. 

The  hotel  proprietor  smiled. 

"They  'd  have  found  a  verdict  without  leavin' 
it  at  all  ef  old  Wobble-Belly  had  n't  herded  'em 
out  of  it,"  he  whispered,  confidently,  but  his 
neighbor  was  not  apparently  convinced. 

156 ' 


DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 

"I  ain't  sure  'bout  that,  Pete,"  he  drawled. 

"I  ain't,  either,"  responded  the  old  man, 
cheerily.  "Nothin  's  sure  'bout  a  jury.  But  I  '11 
make  you  a  sportin'  proposition,  Eph,"  he  con- 
tinued, chuckling.  "I  '11  give  you  a  dollar  for 
every  minute  they  stay  out  after  a  quarter  t' 
four  ef  you  '11  pay  me  at  the  same  rate  for  every 
minute  it 's  short  of  that  when  you  see  'em 
agin." 

The  young  man  slowly  stroked  his  chin  as  he 
gazed  at  the  veteran's  smiling  countenance. 

"Reckon  it 's  lucky  fer  you  I  ain't  a  bettin' 
man,  Pete,"  he  declared,  after  a  pause.  "But 
ef  you  're  hankerin'  to  gamble,  maybe  what 's- 
his-name  over  there — the  big  guy  they  call  'the 
Resurrectionist,'  would  accommodate  you.  He 
don't  seem  to  think  it 's  worth,  his  while  to  wait 
for  'em." 

He  bobbed  his  head  towards  the  counsel's 
table  as  he  spoke,  and  the  old  man,  following  his 
glance,  observed  that  Wallace  Dunham  had  risen 
and  was  being  helped  into  his  fur  coat  by  a  youth- 
ful clerk.  Indeed,  it  was  soon  apparent  that 
not  only  he,  but  Artemus  Peck,  and  all  the  plain- 

157 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

tiff's  other  supporters  intended  to  retire,  for  they 
were  gathering  their  books  and  papers  together  and 
otherwise  preparing  for  immediate  departure. 
Their  adversaries  at  the  opposite  table  watched 
them  with  evident  amusement,  and  something  in 
Mr.  Poinder's  expression  evidently  challenged 
the  Resurrectionist,  for  he  stepped  close  to  him  as 
he  drew  on  his  chamois  gloves. 

"Have  n't  you  had  about  enough  of  this  par- 
rot's cage,  Poinder1?"  he  inquired  in  a  low,  pat- 
ronizing tone.  "I  '11  lend  you  a  clerk  to  receive 
the  verdict,  if  you  have  n't  got  one." 

Gedney's  counsel  smiled  provokingly. 

"Thank  you,"  he  responded  in  a  penetrating 
drawl,  "but  I  can  afford  to  wait.  Don't  let  me 
detain  you,  however.  He  who  fights  and  runs 
away  may  live  to  fight  another  day,  you  know, 
and  that's  your  best  chance  of  surviving  this 
verdict." 

The  faint  sound  of  laughter  which  greeted  this 
sally  seemed  to  anger  the  metropolitan  jurist,  for 
he  turned  away  abruptly. 

"I  '11  leave  a  boy  to  bring  me  your  scalp,"  he 
snapped  over  his  shoulder. 

158 


DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 

"Good !"  retorted  Poinder.  "But  if  he  comes 
no  nearer  getting  it  than  you  have,  Dunham, 
he  '11  return  empty  handed.  However,  I  reckon 
any  boy  could  do  better." 

Again  the  ripple  of  laughter  started,  and  this 
time  it  spread  from  bench  to  bench  until  the 
whole  audience  was  chuckling  as  the  Resurrec- 
tionist and  his  retinue  made  their  way  toward 
the  door.  Then  the  spectators  suddenly  relapsed 
into  silence,  and  the  room  remained  as  quiet  as  a 
church  till  a  neighboring  clock  tolled  the  hour  of 
four,  when  Judge  Kinsley,  rising  from  his  chair, 
retired  to  his  chambers  through  the  door  behind 
the  Bench. 

Instantly  a  buzz  of  conversation  started,  swell- 
ing gradually  to  a  perfect  babel  as  the  crowd 
poured  forth  its  pent-up  opinions,  hopes,  and 
fears  concerning  the  jury  and  the  probable  mean- 
ing of  its  delayed  return.  For  a  time  Mr.  Ged- 
ney  and  his  son  held  a  sort  of  impromptu  recep- 
tion, in  which  hand-shaking,  congratulations,  and 
good  wishes  were  mingled  with  headshaking, 
well-meant  sympathy,  and  ominous  questions, 
until  Mr.  Poinder  began  to  look  anxiously  at  the 

159 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

flushed  face  of  his  gray-haired  client  and  wonder 
if  he  ought  not  to  advise  him  to  return  to  the 
hotel.  But  the  moment  he  suggested  this  the  old 
gentleman  turned  on  him  with  a  burst  of  nervous 
impatience  that  might  have  ended  in  a  scene  had 
not  Peter  Reeve  interposed  with  the  comforting 
laugh  which  never  failed  to  soothe  his  old-time 
friend.  Meanwhile,  the  crowd  had  been  slowly 
thinning,  until  by  half-past  four  only  a  handful 
of  people  remained  in  the  room,  and  seeing  that 
Mr.  Gedney  was  engaged  in  conferring  with  a 
business  friend,  the  host  of  the  Reeve  House  mo- 
tioned his  counsel  aside. 

"What  do  you  make  of  this,  Mr.  Poinder*?" 
he  whispered.  "Think  it 's  a  disagreement*?" 

The  lawyer  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What  do  you  ask  me  for,  Pete?"  he  replied. 
"You  saw  juries  in  this  county  before  I  was 
much  more  than  born.  What  do  you  think  it 
means'?" 

The  old  man  glanced  apprehensively  at  Ged- 
ney. 

"I  offered  to  give  Eph  Bisland  a  dollar  for 
every  minute  they  stayed  out  after  a  quarter  of 

160 


DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 

four,"  he  responded,  behind  his  hand.  "That 
wuz  my  opinion  then.  But  now — well,  it  might 
be  an  all-night  job — or  worse." 

His  companion  nodded. 

"Can't  you  persuade  him  to  go  back  to  the 
hotel1?"  he  inquired,  indicating  his  client. 
"He  's  been  busy  talking  and  has  n't  realized  how 
the  time  is  slipping  by;  but  when  he  does — " 

"When  he  does  he  '11  worry  less  right  here  than 
he  would  anywhere  else,"  interrupted  Reeve. 
"I'd  like  mighty  well  to  stay  by  him,  but  you 
know  the  house  is  full  er  people,  and — " 

"I  understand,"  assented  Poinder.  "Just  tell 
Zeb  to  get  the  fire  lighted  in  his  room  and  put  a 
flask  of  brandy  where  I  can  find  it  quickly  if  he 
needs  it.  He  's  got  one?  All  right;  but  I  've  a 
notion  that  Kinsley  won't  keep  this  shop  open 
much  longer,  and  if  he  orders  a  sealed  verdict — " 

He  paused  as  Old  Man  Reeve  gave  a  low 
whistle. 

"A  sealed  verdict*?"  he  repeated.  "Gosh! 
I  'd  clean  forgotten  that  play.  Don't  you  let 
him  make  it,  Mr.  Poinder.  It  'd  be  an  outrage 
to  keep  Dave  in  suspense  all  night."  . 

161 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Mr.  Poinder  drew  a  cigar  from  his  pocket  and 
rolled  it  thoughtfully  between  his  fingers. 

"I  'd  rather  have  a  verdict  that  I  could  n't  open 
till  to-morrow  morning  than  a  disagreement  to- 
night," he  reflected.  "But  orders  of  that  kind 
are  apt  to  make  the  jurors  agree,  and  Kinsley 
is  n't  as  keen  about  having  them  agree  as  I  wish 
he  was.  Don't  you  worry  about  sealed  verdicts, 
Pete." 

With  a  nod  and  a  smile,  the  host  of  the  Reeve 
House  moved  toward  the  door,  opened  it,  and 
then  paused  with  his  hand  on  the  knob.  The 
daylight  was  almost  gone,  and  the  dismal  court 
was  entirely  deserted  save  for  the  little  group 
shrouded  in  shadow  at  the  further  end.  For  a 
moment  the  old  man  peered  into  the  gloom  with 
an  anxious  expression  on  his  usually  calm  face. 
"I  wonder,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "I  wonder 
ef  that  really  wuz  a  flask  I  felt  in  Dave's  hip 
pocket.  .  .  .  Never  knew  him  to  carry  a  gun, 
but—" 

His  fingers  slipped  from  the  knob  and  the  door 
closed  with  a  slam.  Mr.  Gedney  instantly 
leaped  up,  staring  wildly  about  him. 

162 

• 


DELIBERATE  JUSTICE 

"Lights — lights  here!"  he  cried  out  fiercely. 
"The  jury 's  coming — the  jury 's — " 

Then  he  paused,  and,  glancing  from  Poinder 
to  his  son  and  across  the  vacant  court-room,  sank 
slowly  into  his  chair. 

"That  was  funny,"  he  murmured,  weakly. 
"I  don't  know  what — what  startled  me  so.  Of 
course  they  have  n't  come  in  yet.  It 's  early — 
much  too  early.  Is  n't  it,  Mr.  Poinder ?  You 
can't  expect  to  have  such  a  big  case — such  a  long 
case — decided  in  a  minute.  .  .  .  Can  you,  Pete? 
.  .  .  Oh,  has  Pete  gone?  .  .  ." 

Old  Man  Reeve  slipped  quietly  out  of  the 
door,  and,  closing  it  softly,  confronted  the  fat 
court  attendant  mounting  guard  on  a  cane  chair 
at  the  foot  of  the  little  circular  iron  staircase 
leading  to  the  jury-room. 

"What  d'  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  'em, 
John?"  he  inquired  with  an  upward  gesture. 

"Reckon  they  've  gone  to  sleep,  Pete,"  re- 
sponded the  official.  "I  ain't  heard  's  much  as  a 
pin  drop  since  I  've  been  settin'  here." 

The  old  man  shook  some  tobacco  into  his  pipe 
and  slowly  packed  it  in  with  his  thumb. 

163 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"Humph!"  he  reflected.  "That 's  a  heap  bet- 
ter than  havin'  'em  fightin'  like  cats  and  dogs, 
ain't  it?  But  I  kinder  thought  they  wuz  goin' 
to  agree  quick." 

"Me,  too." 

"Well,  so  long,  John." 

"So  long,  Pete." 

As  the  storm  door  closed  behind  him,  the  veteran 
jury  expert  struck  a  match  and  stood  lost  in 
thought  for  some  moments,  mechanically  puffing 
at  his  pipe  and  watching  the  lights  in  his  hostelry 
across  the  village  green.  Then  he  shook  his  head 
and  slowly  started  down  the  court-house  steps. 

"Ain't  quarrelin'  or  arguing  or  talkin'  at  all," 
he  mumbled.  "Just  one  of  them  settin',  starin'- 
at-one-another,  dumb,  obstinate  kinds — I  know 
'em !  It 's  a  disagreement  sure." 


164 


CHAPTER  XIV 

JUDGES   OF   THE   FACTS 

"  Some  men  are  born  to  feast  and  not  to  fight, 
Whose  sluggish  minds  e'en  in  fair  honor's  field 
Still  on  their  dinner  turn." 

Baillie. 

THE  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House  was  un- 
comfortably crowded  when  supper  was  an- 
nounced, for  the  widely  advertised  Gedney  case 
had  brought  a  surprising  number  of  visitors  to  the 
scene,  and  the  Bar  of  Eraser  County,  which 
usually  reigned  supreme  in  the  old  hotel,  for  once 
found  itself  in  the  minority.  In  fact,  the 
charmed  circle  around  the  wood-stove  included 
so  many  strangers  that  the  legal  brethren  hurried 
into  the  dining-room  at  the  first  stroke  of  the  bell, 
and  returned  after  a  scanty  meal  to  forestall  any 
further  invasion  of  their  rights,  with  the  result 
that  by  half -past  six  they  had  regained  complete 

165 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

possession  of  their  favorite  camping  ground. 
There  was  one  layman,  however,  for  whom  the 
profession  was  always  ready  to  make  room;  and 
as  Old  Man  Reeve  skirted  the  ring  of  chairs  on 
his  way  to  answer  a  telephone  call  in  the  office 
he  was  bombarded  with  invitations  to  sit  down 
and  discuss  the  latest  news  from  the  front.  But 
for  once  in  his  life  the  old  gentleman  was  not  so- 
ciably inclined,  and  passed  by  with  a  glum  shake 
of  his  head. 

"He 's  taking  this  case  pretty  hard,"  com- 
mented Corning,  as  the  old  man  disappeared. 

Brundage  leaned  forward  and  knocked  the 
ashes  out  of  his  pipe  by  tapping  it  against  the 
stove. 

"Why  shouldn't  he?'  he  demanded.  "If 
your  best  and  oldest  friend  was  threatened  with 
ruin  would  you  feel  like  cracking  jokes  or  whoop- 
ing it  up  much'?" 

The  young  man  flushed. 

"Of  course  not,"  he  protested.  "But  there  's 
no  danger  of  Gedney's  being  beaten.  The  worst 
that  can  happen  is  a  disagreement,  and  that 's 
always  a  sort  of  victory  for  a  defendant." 

166 


JUDGES  OF  THE  FACTS 

"Not  always,"  corrected  the  State's  Attorney. 
"The  Supply  people  have  got  Gedney  all  tied  up 
with  this  litigation.  That 's  why  they  've  fought 
so  hard  to  keep  him  from  getting  a  trial.  A  dis- 
agreement would  be  as  bad  as  a  defeat  for  him. 
His  business  would  be  ruined  long  before  he 
could  get  another  trial,  which  is  a  beautiful  com- 
mentary on  the  way  we  administer  justice  in  this 
land." 

The  speaker  paused,  and,  answering  a  signal, 
tossed  his  tobacco-pouch  into  an  outstretched 
hand. 

"Now  don't  let 's  begin  yapping  at  the  evils  of 
the  law,"  protested  Thompson. 

"Why  not*?"  demanded  Warren.  "There  are 
no  laymen  present.  The  longer  we  put  up  with 
such  practices — " 

"Well,  it's  a  case  of  'put  up  or  shut  up/ 
is  n't  it*?"  retorted  Thompson.  "There  's  more 
room  outside  the  profession,  you  know,  Warren, 
than  there  is  in  it." 

"Tut-tut-tut!"  laughed  Brundage.  "We'll 
have  to  turn  this  circle  into  a  prize-ring  if  every- 
body 's  going  to  pepper  his  words.  Did  any  of 

167 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

you  fellows  have  the  slightest  idea  that  the  jury- 
would  be  out  as  long  as  this?"  he  continued.  "I 
did  n't." 

"There 's  no  use  trying  to  guess  what  a  jury  will 
do,"  asserted  Plimpton.  "A  friend  of  mine  had 
a  promissory  note  case  not  long  ago,  in  which  the 
jury  stayed  out  for  six  hours  and  then  returned 
a  verdict  of  'Guilty  in  the  second  degree,'  what- 
ever that  meant." 

"Was  that  in  a  prohibition  town?"  laughed 
Bigelow. 

"I  can't  say  it  was,"  replied  Plimpton.  "But 
I  would  n't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  the  Resurrection- 
ist had  this  jury  so  mixed  up  with  all  his  mo- 
tions, exceptions,  and  requests-to-charge  that  they 
don't  know  whether  to  condemn  Gedney  to  death 
or  merely  to  fine  him  for  being  alive." 

"Well,  he  certainly  had  Kinsley  on  the  run," 
agreed  Foster.  "I  bet  the  Honorable  Jacob  is 
glad  to  get  a  breathing  spell.  Did  you  notice  the 
way  Dunham  rushed  him  from  the  very  start,  mak- 
ing him  rule  on  some  point  or  other  about  once  a 
minute  and  never  giving  him  time  to  catch  his  sec- 
ond wind?  I  never  saw  a  judge  as  scared  and 

168 


JUDGES  OF  THE  FACTS 

generally  wild  as  he  was  at  the  end  of  the  first 
day." 

Warren  nodded. 

"Maybe  there  was  method  in  his  madness,"  he 
suggested.  "It  struck  me  that  he  was  delib- 
erately trying  to  make  a  mistrial  of  it  by  provok- 
ing Poinder  into  demanding  the  withdrawal  of  a 
juror.  What 's  the  matter,  Pete*?"  he  continued, 
as  the  proprietor  reentered  the  lobby  and  started 
hurriedly  toward  the  kitchen. 

"Matter  enough!"  growled  the  old  man. 
"The  jury  's  coming  here  for  supper!  On  five 
minutes'  notice,  too!  Isn't  that  just  like  Jake 
Kinsley1?  He's  got  'bout's  much  sense  as — 
well,  ef  he  had  any  sense  at  all  he  would  n't  let 
them  fellers  have  a  smell  of  anything  to  eat  as 
long  's  they  disagreed.  Starvin'  and  not  stuffin' 
'em  is  what  'd  bring  'em  'round !" 

The  veteran  kicked  the  swing  door  open  as  he 
spoke  and  disappeared  into  the  kitchen,  leaving 
the  lobby  smiling  but  silent. 

"That'  s  the  first  time  I  've  seen  Pete  on  the 
rampage  for  a  good  many  years,"  commented 
Warren,  after  a  pause.  "There  's  a  whole  lot  of 

169 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

truth,  though,  in  his  theory,"  he  continued,  but 
stopped  abruptly  as  the  door  opened,  and  David 
Gedney  entered,  leaning  heavily  on  his  son's  arm 
and  staring  straight  before  him  like  a  blind 
man.  Mr.  Poinder  followed  with  a  clerk  carry- 
ing books  and  papers,  and  the  lobby  silently 
watched  the  little  procession  as  it  moved  across 
the  room. 

At  the  staircase  Mr.  Gedney  glanced  over  his 
shoulder  to  see  if  his  counsel  was  following  him 
and  then  started  upward,  moving  with  painful 
slowness  and  resting  on  every  step.  At  the  first 
landing  he  swung  around  facing  the  room  and,  as 
he  stood  there  leaning  against  the  hand-rail  and 
breathing  heavily,  the  door  below  suddenly  flew 
open  and  John,  the  court  attendant,  entered,  lead- 
ing in  the  jury  like  the  bell-wether  of  a  docile 
flock  of  sheep. 

For  a  moment  the  wearied  litigant  on  the 
stairway  regarded  the  visitors  with  dull,  un- 
recognizing  gaze.  Then  his  fingers  closed  con- 
vulsively on  the  balustrade  and,  leaning  far 
across  it,  he  scanned  each  passing  face  with  hor- 
rible intensity,  his  lips  moving  as  though  in 

170 


JUDGES  OF  THE  FACTS 

prayer.  Suddenly  his  arm  shot  forth  in  a  de- 
taining gesture  and  his  voice  rang  out  with 
startling  clearness: 

"For  God's  sake,  gentlemen — " 

Mr.  Poinder  instantly  clapped  his  hand  over 
the  speaker's  mouth,  and  Brundage,  slamming  the 
stove-door  shut  with  a  crash,  managed  to  divert 
attention  from  the  stairs  until  the  deputy  court 
attendant,  bringing  up  in  the  rear,  had  herded  the 
last  juryman  into  the  dining-room. 

Every  eye  in  the  room  was  centered  on  Poinder 
as  he  slowly  released  his  hand  and  gazed  straight 
into  his  client's  face. 

"Don't  lose  this  case  for  me,  Mr.  Gedney,"  he 
commanded  in  a  tense  whisper,  and,  slipping  an 
arm  around  the  old  gentleman,  fairly  carried  him 
up  the  remaining  stairs. 


171 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

"You  should  be  ruled  and  led 
By  some  discretion  that  discerns  your  state 
Better  than  you  yourself." 

King  Lear. 

THE  occupants  of  the  lobby  exchanged  sig- 
nificant glances  as  the  scene  on  the  stairway 
ended,  but  no  one  offered  any  comment,  and  the 
silence  remained  unbroken  until  Foster  drew  a 
long  breath  and,  opening  the  stove-door,  noisily 
threw  in  a  log  of  wood. 

"I  don't  like  this  sort  of  thing,"  he  muttered. 
"It  takes  all  the  fun  out  of  practicing  law. 
Damn  Peck  and  Dunham  and  all  such  shysters, 
I  say!" 

"I  don't  know  why  you  blame  them,"  pro- 
tested Thompson. 

"Because  they  don't  play  the  game,"  inter- 
rupted Warren. 

172 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

"They  play  it  according  to  the  rules." 

"Not  as  I  understand  them." 

"Well,  they  're  not  responsible  for  your  under- 
standing. Ask  Poinder.  Don't  you  suppose 
he  'd  have  brought  them  up  with  a  round  turn 
if  they'd  overstepped  the  bounds'?  Of  course 
he  would !  But  he  knows,  and  every  other  mem- 
ber of  the  Bar  ought  to  know,  what  the  rules  per- 
mit—" 

"Hush !"  interrupted  Brundage.  "He  's  com- 
ing. .  .  .  Hello,  Dick!"  he  continued,  as  the 
lawyer  hove  in  sight.  "We  've  all  been  studying 
your  jury  on  its  way  to  the  trough,  and  we  Ve 
unanimously  decided  that  they  're  with  you  to  a 
man." 

"That 's  right,"  assented  Foster.  "Some  of  us 
see  it  in  their  eyes,  others  know  it  by  their  walk, 
others  tell  it  by  their  mouths,  and  I  'm  sure  of  it 
because  the  honest  farmers  carry  their  overcoats 
with  'em  wherever  they  go,  which  proves  that 
they  suspect  the  Resurrectionist!  But  all  these 
signs  are  equally  infallible  and  every  omen  is 
with  you." 

Poinder  smiled  faintly,  but  his  face  wore  an 

173 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

anxious  expression  as  he  seated  himself  on  an  arm 
of  Foster's  chair  and  began  rolling  a  cigarette. 

"I  hope  you  're  right,  boys,"  he  responded, 
calmly.  "I  think  myself  that  they'll  agree  be- 
fore long,  if — " 

He  paused,  glancing  slowly  around  the  circle, 
but  Brundage  nodded,  reassuringly. 

"Go  ahead,  Dick,"  he  laughed.  "There's 
none  of  the  enemy  present.  If  what*?" 

Gedney's  counsel  moistened  the  paper  of  his 
cigarette,  and  then  looked  up  quickly. 

"If  Kinsley  does  n't  prevent  it,"  he  answered, 
quietly. 

"Kinsley?" 

The  question  was  a  whispered  exclamation 
coming  from  right  and  left  as  the  circle  of  chairs 
contracted;  but  Brundage  was  the  first  to  put  it 
in  another  form. 

"How  can  the  Judge  prevent  them  from  agree- 
ing, Dick1?"  he  demanded. 

"He  can  dismiss  them  when  he  thinks  they  've 
been  out  long  enough,  Tom;  and,  as  he's  been 
of  that  opinion  for  some  time,  he  's  likely  to  do 
it  at  any  minute  now." 

174 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

"What!"  exclaimed  Foster.  "They  haven't 
been  out  four  hours  yet." 

"I  know  that,"  continued  Poinder.  "But 
Kinsley  began  to  get  restless  two  hours  ago.  He 
called  Dunham,  Peck,  and  me  into  his  chambers 
at  half-past  five  and  asked  us  if  we  did  n't  think 
it  was  about  time  that  the  jurors  were  discharged. 
Of  course  the  Resurrectionist  made  a  show  of 
protesting,  but  anybody  could  see  he  was  n't 
sincere,  and  if  I  had  n't  objected  pretty  strenu- 
ously I  believe  the  thing  would  have  been  done 
on  the  spot.  Since  then  his  Honor  has  had  two 
other  conferences  with  us  on  the  same  subject, 
and  each  time  I  've  had  to  fight  him  practically 
alone.  I  tell  you  I  don't  like  the  look  of  things 
— I  don't  like  it  at  all." 

"Why  I  never  heard  of  such  an  outrage!" 
commented  Foster.  "What 's  the  matter  with 
Kinsley,  Dick*?  I  always  knew  he  was  stupid, 
but  I  certainly  thought  he  was  straight.  Is  n't 
he?" 

Poinder  lit  a  match  and  sat  idly  watching  the 
flame  for  a  moment  before  he  tossed  it  under  the 
stove. 

175 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"Yes,  I  suppose  he  's  straight  according  to  his 
lights,"  he  responded.  "But  everybody  knows 
that  he 's  ambitious  for  another  term  on  the 
Bench,  and  it 's  pretty  hard  to  forget  that  the 
Supply  Company  is  quite  a  political  power  in 
this  county.  Very  few  of  us  could  forget  it  if 
our  job  was  in  danger  and  election  day  was  near 
at  hand.  As  long  as  we  elect  our  judges  we  ex- 
pose them  to  just  such  temptations,  and  even 
when  they  resist  them  they  're  open  to  suspicion, 
which  is  almost  as  bad  for  their  influence  with 
the  public  as — " 

"Oh,  cut  out  the  theorizing,  Poinder,  and 
get  down  to  brass  tacks,"  interrupted  Thompson. 
"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Kingsley  's  actually 
working  with  the  Supply  people1?" 

The  lawyer  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"Not  consciously,"  he  answered.  "He  knows 
perfectly  well  that  the  Company  is  n't  anxious  to 
have  this  case  decided,  and  that  they  want  to 
keep  it  hanging  over  Gedney's  head.  But  he  's 
persuaded  himself  that  he  is  n't  affected  by  this 
fact.  What 's  troubling  him  is  his  'record.' 
You've  heard  of  his  'record,'  haven't  you?" 

176 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

"Good  Lord !"  laughed  Foster.     "Who has  n't?' 

"If  anybody  in  this  county  does  n't  know  that 
the  Honorable  Jacob  has  been  reversed  less  than 
any  other  judge  on  this  Circuit,  it  is  n't  because  he 
has  n't  advertised  that  fact,"  commented  Plimp- 
ton. 

"Well,  there  you  have  the  secret  of  the  whole 
thing,"  resumed  Poinder.  "Dunham  took  two 
hundred  and  ninety-seven  exceptions  to  his 
Honor's  rulings  during  the  course  of  this  trial." 

Brundage  nodded. 

"I  see,"  he  reflected.  "There  are  two  hundred 
and  ninety-seven  chances  of  his  having  been 
tripped  up  on  some  fine  point  of  law,  if  the  case 
is  reviewed  in  a  higher  court,  so  he  's  decided  to 
play  "the  thirteenth  juror"  and  prevent  an  agree- 
ment." 

"Of  course,"  assented  Foster.  "If  there  Js  no 
verdict,  there 's  nothing  to  appeal  from  and 
his  precious  'record'  is  safe.  Naturally  he  pre- 
fers a  mis- trial.  What  judicial  side-stepper 
would  n't?" 

"Especially  when  his  fears  coincide  with  po- 
litical expediency,"  added  Plimpton. 

177 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"No;  give  the  devil  his  due,"  protested  Poin- 
der.  "I  confess  that  at  one  time  I  thought  he 
was  afraid  of  the  Supply  folks,  but  I  don't  now. 
It 's  the  rules  of  evidence  and  the  technical  de- 
cisions that  have  cowed  him  and  got  on  his  nerves. 
Of  course  he  did  n't  want  to  try  this  case,  and 
you  all  know  how  hard  he  struggled  to  get  rid 
of  it.  But  I  honestly  believe  he  'd  have  judged 
it  on  the  merits,  without  regard  to  his  political 
fortunes,  if  there  'd  been  no  legal  quibbles  raised. 
It 's  only  because  he  is  'law  sick'  that  he  's  play- 
ing into  my  opponent's  hands.  However,  I  '11  tell 
you  what  I  'm  going  to  do — " 

"Hush,"  interrupted  the  State's  Attorney. 
"Here  comes  the  jury." 

There  were  no  signs  of  dissension  or  trouble  of 
any  kind  among  the  jurors,  as  they  filed  from  the 
dining-room.  On  the  contrary,  they  appeared  in 
such  capital  spirits  that  their  laughter  and  gen- 
eral lack  of  seriousness  rather  grated  upon  the 
watching  group  of  lawyers,  and,  when  they  finally 
made  their  exit  in  a  perfect  gale  of  merriment, 
the  lobby  glanced  anxiously  and  sympathetically 
at  the  counsel  in  the  cause.  But  Poinder  was 

178 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

absorbed  in  drawing  patterns  on  the  floor  with 
the  poker  and  did  not  look  up  till  Brundage  ad- 
dressed him. 

"You  were  just  about  to  tell  us  something, 
when  those  merry  picknickers  interrupted,  Dick," 
he  observed.  "What  was  it1?" 

"Nothing;  except  that  I  don't  intend  to  hold 
any  more  conferences  with  Kinsley  in  his  private 
quarters,"  responded  the  lawyer.  "If  he  is  going 
to  discharge  this  jury,  I  'm  going  to  make  him 
do  it  from  the  Bench  in  open  court — where  you 
gentlemen  will  find  plenty  of  room  on  the  front 
benches,  if  the  spirit  moves  you  to  attend,"  he 
added,  meaningly. 

"By  Jove,  that 's  a  good  idea,  old  man,"  ex- 
claimed Warren.  "We  can  make  it  a  sort  of 
professional  mass-meeting." 

"As  a  silent  protest,"  amended  Foster. 

Poinder  nodded. 

"I  think  his  Honor  would  n't  misunderstand 
your  presence,"  he  responded.  "Can  I  count  on 
you?" 

"To  a  man,"  asserted  Brundage,  glancing  con- 
fidently round  the  circle. 

179 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

"Good !  You  won't  have  to  wait  long.  I  'm 
going  over  to  the  court-house  now  and  I  '11  let 
you  know  if  you  're  wanted." 

Poinder  rose  as  he  spoke. 

"Hello,  Zeb,"  he  continued,  as  the  handy  man 
of  the  Reeve  House  entered  with  a  fresh  basket 
of  wood.  "Ask  Pete  if  you  can  come  across  the 
Green  with  me  on  an  errand  of  some  importance. 
.  .  .  What's  that^  Abner  Saltus  is  outside*? 
All  right.  Tell  him  I  'm  coming.  ...  I 
thought  we  wouldn't  have  long  to  wait,  gentle- 
men," he  went  on.  "The  Judge's  secretary  has 
arrived  with  a  message  from  the  Court." 


Half  an  hour  later  the  occupants  of  the  lobby, 
responding  to  Zeb's  breathless  summons,  rose  as 
one  man  and  hurriedly  followed  him  across  the 
village  green.  The  dimly  lighted  court-room 
was  strangely  silent  as  they  entered  and  filed  into 
the  foremost  seats.  Judge  Kinsley  was  on  the 
bench,  apparently  absorbed  in  the  perusal  of  a 
legal  document.  At  one  of  the  counsel  tables  sat 
Wallace  Dunham  in  his  big  fur  overcoat,  poring 

180 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

over  a  time-table  with  Artemus  Peck,  while  Poin- 
der,  almost  hidden  in  the  shadow,  was  busily 
writing  at  the  other. 

The  Judge  looked  up  sharply  as  the  visitors 
entered,  and  the  Resurrectionist,  removing  his 
big-rimmed,  tortoise-shell  eye-glass,  stared  at 
them  in  frank  astonishment  for  a  moment,  and 
then  glanced  questioningly  at  his  adversary.  But 
Poinder  continued  his  writing  undisturbed,  and 
it  was  not  until  Brundage  slipped  into  a  chair 
beside  him  that  he  turned  toward  his  supporters. 

"It 's  too  late,"  he  whispered  to  the  State's 
Attorney.  "He 's  sent  for  the  jurors  already. 
Dunham  and  Peck  practically  consented  to  their 
discharge,  and  he  would  n't  hear  a  word  from  me. 
I  've  made  pretty  complete  notes  of  everything 
that 's  happened,  however,  and  I  'm  going  to  get 
a  full  protest  on  the  record  before  he  actually 
carries  this  thing  through." 

"He  won't  carry  it  through,"  muttered  Brun- 
dage, confidently. 

Poinder  glanced  smilingly  at  the  well-filled 
benches. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  responded.  "He  's  almost 
181 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

committed  himself  to  it  now.  However,  there  's 
just  a  bare  chance  that — Hush !  They  're  com- 
ing." 

Every  head  in  the  room  turned  as  the  iron  stair- 
way rang  with  the  tramp  of  feet,  and  in  another 
moment  the  door  opened  and  the  twelve  men  en- 
tered, and,  shambling  up  the  aisle,  took  their 
seats  in  the  jury-box. 

Judge  Kinsley,  leaning  across  the  judicial 
desk,  watched  them  intently  while  the  clerk 
called  the  roll,  and  as  the  last  man  responded  to 
his  name  he  addressed  them  in  low,  courteous 
tones. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  began,  "you  have  now  been 
deliberating  on  this  case  for  several  hours  and 
though  I  am  loth  to  exercise  the  discretionary 
power  of  discharging  you  with  which  I  am  clothed 
by  the  law,  yet  I  feel  that  it  would  be  improper 
to  coerce  your  judgment  by  further  confinement. 
If  there  were  any  chance  of  your  being  able  to 
agree  upon  a  verdict — " 

"Say,  Judge,"  interrupted  a  voice  from  the 
rear  of  the  box,  "we  agreed  long  ago,  but  the 
foreman  said — " 

182 


"  Do  you  see  any  green  in  that  ?  "  he  drawled 


THE  LIMITS  OF  DISCRETION 

The  crash  of  the  Judge's  gavel  silenced  the 
speaker,  but  crash  after  crash  was  required  to 
bring  the  audience  to  order.  Then,  glaring 
fiercely  at  the  offenders  for  a  moment,  Kinsley 
turned  slowly  to  the  jury-box. 

"Am  I  to  understand,  sir,"  he  demanded  of 
the  foreman,  "that  you  have  agreed  upon  a 
verdict4?" 

"That 's  right,  Judge." 

Again  the  gavel  crashed  upon  the  desk,  but  the 
warning  was  unnecessary  as  far  as  the  audience 
was  concerned,  and,  noting  this,  the  Judge  turned 
*nd  nodded  to  the  clerk. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  began  that  official. 
"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  say  that  you  have 
agreed  upon  a  verdict.  How  do  you  find?  For 
the  plaintiff  or  defendant*?" 

The  lanky  countryman  in  the  foreman's  seat 
rose  slowly  as  the  clerk  concluded  his  formula. 

"For  the  defendant,"  he  responded  clearly. 

The  festivities  at  the  Reeve  House  were  at 
their  height,  and  Poinder,  mounted  on  a  trunk, 
was  endeavoring  to  respond  to  a  call  for  a  speech 

185 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

amid  a  volley  of  laughter  and  applause,  when 
Brundage,  sitting  on  the  office  desk,  with  his  arm 
flung  fraternally  over  the  foreman's  shoulder,  in- 
quired why  the  jury  had  taken  so  long  to  reach 
their  verdict. 

"We  did  n't  take  no  time  at  all,"  was  the 
shouted  answer.  "We  agreed  on  the  first  bal- 
lot." 

"What!"  roared  the  State's  Attorney,  trying 
to  make  his  voice  heard  above  the  din.  "You 
agreed  at  once!  Then  why  in  thunder  did  n't 
you  say  so*?" 

The  foreman  drew  down  his  lower  eyelid. 

"Do  you  see  any  green  in  that1?"  he  drawled. 
"Did  n't  the  county  have  to  furnish  us  with  a 
free  supper  if  we  stayed  out1?  You  bet  it  did. 
We  were  n't  born  yesterday,  Mister !" 


186 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ON   THE   MERITS 

"Joys  are  bubble  like, 
What  makes  them,  bursts  them  too." 

Bailey. 

THE  lobby  of  the  Reeve  House  looked  like 
the  waiting-room  of  a  busy  railway  station 
the  morning  after  the  verdict.  Trunks,  bags, 
boxes,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  travel  lay 
scattered  about  the  floor  in  every  direction,  and 
the  guests,  with  overcoats  and  hats  on,  mounted 
guard  over  their  belongings  or  stood  chatting  with 
the  proprietor  at  the  office  desk  as  his  employees 
shuffled  in  and  out  transferring  the  baggage  to  the 
hay  cart  that  was  always  pressed  into  service  when 
the  Circuit  Court  adjourned. 

The  hour  for  speeding  his  parting  guests  was 
usually  a  sore  trial  for  Old  Man  Reeve,  and  it 
was  not  merely  the  financial  loss  involved  in  the 
exodus  that  dampened  his  normally  buoyant 

187 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

spirits.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  probable  that  he 
would  have  been  glad  to  relinquish  all  chances  of 
profit  if  he  could  have  induced  the  Bar  of  Eraser 
County  to  prolong  its  stay  in  Belo,  for  the  only 
time  he  really  lived  was  during  the  sessions  of 
the  court.  The  rest  of  the  year  he  simply 
"rusted  out,"  as  he  expressed  it,  although  the 
legal  fraternity  declared  that  he  grew  fatter  and 
jollier  and  generally  more  youthful  every  day  he 
lived.  Certainly  he  always  appeared  to  be  in 
fine  feather  when  he  welcomed  the  profession  on 
its  quarterly  returns  to  the  county  seat.  But  there 
was  one  sign  of  age  which  he  had  undeniably  dis- 
played in  recent  years,  and  that  was  his  marked 
aversion  to  bidding  any  one  good-by.  That  he 
was  well  aware  of  this  weakness,  and  desired  to 
conceal  it,  was  apparent  from  the  fact  that  he 
generally  managed  to  absent  himself  altogether 
from  the  scene  during  the  last  day  of  the  term, 
leaving  Zeb  Turner,  as  master  of  the  closing  cere- 
monies. 

But  on  this  occasion  the  old  man  occupied  his 
favorite  perch  on  the  bookkeeper's  stool  behind 
the  desk,  and  as  he  sat  there  chatting  with  the 

188 


ON  THE  MERITS 

familiars  of  the  lobby  his  face  was  so  unmistak- 
ably jovial  and  contented  that  some  one  jestingly 
remarked  that  he  did  n't  seem  to  be  grieving 
much  at  the  departure  of  his  friends. 

"No,  sir,  I  can't  weep  on  anybody's  shoulder 
to-day,"  he  responded,  cheerily.  "Last  night's 
verdict  made  me  as  frisky 's  a  colt,  and  Dave 
Gedney  's  gained  'bout  ten  years  in  's  many  hours. 
.  .  .  Ain't  I  scared  the  Supply  Company  '11  boy- 
cott me  for  sidin'  so  openly  agin  'em'?"  he  con- 
tinued, with  a  loud  guffaw.  "No,  sir,  I  ain't! 
There  never  wuz  no  love  lost  between  me  and 
them  sence  they  started  huntin'  fer  Dave's  scalp. 
He  'n  me  's  been  friends  too  long  for  me  to  cud- 
dle his  enemies.  Reckon  it 's  lucky  that  great 
counsel  they  lugged  up  from  the  city  did  n't  stay 
here.  I  might  'a'  been  tempted  to  pizen  his  tea! 
But  't war  n't  necessary.  Dick  Poinder  settled 
his  hash.  He  done  'em !  .  .  .  What  are  you  all 
howlin'  'bout4?  I  don't  see  the  joke.  Dunham 
is  his  name"?  Of  course  I  know  that,  but  I  don't 
see  nothing  partic'ly  funny  'bout  it.  ...  Take 
a  check  from  you,  Mr.  Plimpton?  Yes,  sir,  I  'd 
take  Confederate  bills  from  any  member  o'  this 

189 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Bar.  Never  knew  any  you  folks  to  stick  me  yit, 
and  hope  I  '11  die  'fore  I  take  to  suspectin'  my 
friends.  No  use  tryin'  to  skin  a  man  who  's  got 
so  many  lawyers  'round  him,  eh*?  Well,  maybe 
there  's  somethin'  in  that,  counselor !  .  .  .  Yes, 
sir;  stage '11  be  'long  in  'bout  half  an  hour. 
Never  knew  'em  to  miss  a  train  yit.  No  such 
luck  for  the  Reeve  House!  .  .  .  Telegram  for 
Mr.  Gedney?  All  right,  boy,  I  '11  sign  for  it. 
.  .  .  Here,  Zeb,  hop  up  stairs  with  this  to  Mr. 
Gedney's  room.  .  .  .  He  's  had  'bout  eleventeen 
of  them  congratulatin'  messages  already  this 
mornin',  and  I  bet  there  's  been  bunting  on  his 
factory  sence  sun-up.  My!  They  won't  know 
him  when  he  gits  home,  he 's  grown  so  young 
over  night.  Spry1?  Well,  he's  a  regular  four- 
year-old,  thanks  to  the  jury!  .  .  .  Want  a 
receipt,  Mr.  Plimpton*?" 

The  lawyer  shook  his  head  as  he  blotted  the 
signature  on  his  check. 

"Mr.  Gedney  does  n't  owe  any  thanks  to  those 
jurors,  Pete,"  he  observed.  "That  was  a  pretty 
mean  trick  they  played  on  him  last  night,  I 
think." 

190 


ON  THE  MERITS 

"What?  Stayin'  out  till  they'd  had  their 
supper1?"  laughed  the  old  man.  "Shucks!  I'd 
near  forgotten  that.  Yes,  sir,  it  wuz  sorter 
triflin'  with  his  nerves.  But,  say,  I  've  a  notion 
that  they  war  n't  only  just  plottin'  for  a  free 
meal.  I  b'lieve  the  foreman  wuz  guyin'  you, 
Mr.  Brundage,  when  he  sprung  that  yarn.  I 
wuz  talkin'  to  some  of  the  other  fellers  after- 
wards, and  they  let  on  they  did  n't  think  'twas 
quite  becomin'  to  find  a  real  quick  verdict  in  a 
big  case  like  that.  You  see  they  know'd  the 
Supply  folks  'd  been  fightin'  Gedney  off  for 
more  'n  a  year.  Some  of  'em  wuz  on  the  panel 
when  the  case  first  come  up  in  court  five  terms 
back,  and  they  calc'lated  that  'twar  n't  hardly 
decent  to  settle  a  three  days'  trial  in  three  min- 
utes. So  I  reckon  a  few  of  'em  cast  blank  ballots 
and  kept  on  castin'  'em  so  's  to  make  themselves 
sorter  important.  I  ain't  got  the  hull  truth  of 
the  matter  yit,  but  I  'm  thinkin'  my  guess  ain't 
far  from  right.  .  .  .  Want  your  trunk,  Mr. 
Corning*?  Ain't  it  been  brought  down  yit?  Sho ! 
.  .  .  Here,  you  Zeb,  git  somebody  and  hustle 
Mr.  Coming's  things  down,  and,  while  you  're  at 

191 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

it,  take  a  look  into  Mr.  Poinder's  room,  boy,  and 
see  ef  his  trunk 's  closed.  If  't  is,  strap  it  up  and 
bring  it  along.  He  won't  have  much  to  spare, 
time  he  's  back." 

"Where's  he  gone,  Pete?"  demanded  Brun- 
dage. 

"Over  to  court,  counselor." 

The  State's  Attorney  nodded. 

"Of  course!"  he  assented,  "The  Judge  post- 
poned the  formal  motions  in  the  case  until  this 
morning,  didn't  he?  Well,  it's  the  last  act  in 
the  great  drama  of  the  Supply  Company  vs.  Ged- 
ney  &  Son,  and  it  ought  n't  to  take  him  long  to 
ring  down  the  curtain  on  that.  I  wonder  he 
didn't  leave  it  to  a  clerk." 

Old  Man  Reeve  shook  his  head  decisively. 

"No,  siree!"  he  asserted.  "Them  formal  mo- 
tions, as  you  call  'em,  is  nuts  to  the  winner,  and 
ef  I  wuz  Mr.  Poinder  I  would  n't  miss  seein'  the 
Supply  folks  sit  up  on  their  hind  legs  and  beg  for 
a  new  trial  for  anything.  And  then  I  'd  soak  'em 
for  the  biggest  extra  allowance  and  all  the  costs 
I  could  git!  Dick  Poinder  ain't  no  gloater,  but 
he  'd  be  somethin'  less  than  human  ef  he  did  n't 

192 


ON  THE  MERITS 

want  to  stamp  the  ground  in  over  that  there 
'Resurrectionist.'  Gosh !  I  '11  never  forget  his 
face  when  the  foreman  spoke  his  little  piece  last 
night !  I  'm  goin'  to  think  'bout  it  when  I  get 
the  rheumatics.  Betcher  it  '11  make  me  laugh ! 
He  wuz  the  most  surprised  man — " 

"Who  are  you  talking  about,  Pete?"  inter- 
rupted Warren,  pausing  as  he  passed  the  desk. 
"Wallace  Dunham?  Humph!  He  was  n't  sur- 
prised. He  was  absolutely  flabbergasted,  and 
I  don't  blame  him.  First  he  believed  he  was 
going  to  win  hands  down;  then  he  thought  Kins- 
ley was  going  to  dismiss  the  jury  and  give  him 
a  new  lease  of  life,  and  then  the  verdict  knocked 
the  wind  clean  out  of  him." 

The  proprietor's  eyes  twinkled  reminiscently 
as  he  lit  his  pipe. 

"There  war  n't  nothin'  else  in  him  to  knock, 
Mr.  Warren,"  he  chuckled.  "I  sized  him  up  as 
a  big  bag  er  wind  soon  's  I  sot  eyes  on  him,  and 
I  reckon  I  war  n't  far  wrong.  That  sort  of  a 
'Resurrectionist'  may  be  able  to  revive  dead  cases 
in  the  city,  but  in  this  county  his  final  trump 
won't  open  no  graves.  Little  Peck  knows  our 

193 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

people  better  'n  any  city  shark  that  ever  lived, 
and  I  b'lieve  the  Supply  folks  made  a  big  mis- 
take in  handicappin'  him  with  that  Dunham  man. 
What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Brundage?" 

The  State's  Attorney  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know,  Pete,"  he  responded.  "He 
disappointed  me,  but  I  rather  think  he  impressed 
Judge  Kinsley." 

The  old  man  nodded  reflectively. 

"You  're  right  there,  counselor,"  he  admitted. 
"He  certainly  scared  Kinsley,  and  maybe  'im- 
pressed' is  a  politer  word.  But  Mr.  Poinder 
war  n't  afraid  of  him.  He  had  him  agin  the 
ropes  most  of  the  time,  just  as  I  know'd  he  would 
soon  's  he  got  him  in  the  ring." 

"I  should  say  this  had  been  a  perfect  example 
of  a  running  fight,"  commented  Watkins,  as  he 
tossed  a  calling  card  on  the  desk.  "There 's 
been  more  running  than  fighting  in  it  anyway. 
.  .  .  That 's  my  mail  address,  Pete." 

The  proprietor  slipped  the  card  into  the  letter- 
box beside  him. 

"All  right,  sir,"  he  responded.  "Of  course 
there  wuz  more  runnin'  than  nghtin'  to  it,"  he 

194 


ON  THE  MERITS 

continued.  "It  wuz  an  obstacle  race  from  start 
to  finish,  with  the  Supply  folks  buildin'  the  ob- 
stacles and  Gedney  clamberin'  over  'em  till  his 
legs  wuz  pretty  nigh  wobbled  off.  I  reckon  some 
of  you  fellers  don't  exactly  realize  how  near  gone 
Dave  wuz.  But  now  it 's  all  over  I  don't  mind 
tellin'  you  he  almost  threw  up  the  sponge  last 
term,  and  another  adjournment  this  session  would 
have  put  him  down  and  out.  You  see,  as  long 
as  the  Supply  Company  had  this  suit  agin  him 
lots  of  his  customers  fought  shy  of  doing  busi- 
ness with  him  for  fear  of  gettin'  themselves 
mixed  up  in  the  trouble,  and  his  credit  wuz  at 
the  snappin'  point,  which  wuz  just  what  them 
Supply  devils  wanted.  He  'd  have  had  to  sell 
out  to  'em  or  bust  inside  of  another  month,  and 
I  reckon  that  between  bustin'  and  taking  what 
they  'd  have  given  him  there  would  n't  have  been 
no  great  choice.  The  banks  treated  him  fair  and 
square  enough,  but  they  saw  his  finish  unless  this 
case  wuz  out  of  the  way,  and  they  allowed  they 
would  n't  carry  him  another  term  nohow.  .  .  . 
Hello!  here  he  comes.  Right  this  way,  Dave!" 


195 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TO  ABIDE  THE   EVENT 

"And  lo!  the  phantom  caravan  has  reached 
The  Nothing  it  set  out  from.     O  make  haste !" 

Omar  Khayydm? 

MR.  REEVE'S  allusions  to  the  sprightliness 
of  his  friend  were  not  borne  out  by  the 
senior  partner  of  Gedney  &  Son  as  he  descended 
the  lobby  stairs,  for  he  moved  very  slowly,  lean- 
ing heavily  on  the  hand-rail,  and  his  drawn  and 
haggard  face  still  showed  the  terrific  strain  to 
which  he  had  been  subjected.  But  those  who 
had  seen  him  on  the  same  stairway  the  previous 
evening  when  the  verdict  was  in  doubt  readily 
understood  the  proprietor's  optimistic  report  of 
his  health.  He  certainly  was  a  very  different 
person  from  the  half-crazed,  disheveled  old  man 
who  had  aroused  the  sympathy  of  the  legal  pro- 
fession as  no  other  layman  had  done  for  many  a 

196 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

year  in  Belo.  Feeble  and  nerve-wrecked  he  un- 
doubtedly was,  but  as  he  moved  down  the  stairs, 
clothed  in  his  neat,  old-fashioned  garments,  there 
was  something  so  dignified  and  courageous  in  his 
bearing  that  the  lobby  suddenly  broke  into  a 
spontaneous  round  of  applause.  The  little  old 
gentleman's  gaunt  face  flushed  with  pleasure  as 
the  sound  of  the  hand-clapping  reached  his  ears, 
and,  pausing  two  or  three  steps  from  the  foot  of 
the  stairs,  he  gravely  lifted  his  tall  hat  in  recog- 
nition of  the  courtesy. 

"Speech!"  shouted  somebody,  and  the  ap- 
plause began  again,  swelling  this  time  to  quite  a 
small  ovation.  A  smile  of  gratification  flickered 
on  the  veteran's  lips,  but  his  eyes  were  suspi- 
ciously moist  as  he  slowly  raised  a  trembling  hand 
commanding  silence.  The  lobby  instantly  re- 
sponded, but  for  a  few  moments  the  hush  re- 
mained unbroken  as  the  old  man  struggled  to 
master  his  emotions. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  began  at  last  in  a  low  voice 
that  quavered  slightly,  "I  cannot  express 
my  appreciation  of  this  greeting.  All  I  dare 
trust  myself  to  say  is  thank  you — thank  you  a 

197 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

thousand  times.  But,  gentlemen,  it  is  not  me 
you  should  applaud,  but  my  counsel,  Mr.  Poin- 
der,  of  whom  the  Bar  of  Eraser  County  has  good 
reason  to  be  proud  this  day." 

"Three  cheers  for  Dick  Poinder!"  shouted  a 
voice,  and  they  were  given  with  a  will. 

"That  tribute  does  you  honor,  gentlemen," 
resumed  the  speaker.  "No  lawyer  ever  fought 
more  skilfully,  more  fearlessly,  or  more  untir- 
ingly for  a  client  than  Mr.  Poinder  in  his  defense 
of  the  house  of  Gedney  &  Son.  He  has  been 
more  than  a  legal  adviser  to  us.  He  has  been  a 
friend  whose  indomitable  courage  has  enabled  me 
to  keep  the  field  when  hope  was  almost  gone.  I 
can  never  repay  him  for  the  services  he  has  per- 
formed." 

Mr.  Gedney*s  voice  broke,  and  he  paused, 
nervously  fumbling  with  his  handkerchief,  while 
the  little  group  of  listeners  waited  in  respect- 
ful silence  as  he  endeavored  to  regain  his  self- 
control. 

"Bear  with  me  a  moment,"  he  continued, 
speaking  very  slowly.  "I  want  to  say  something 
more  to  you,  and  I  will  try  to  say  it  as  calmly  and 

198 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

briefly  as  I  can.  .  .  .  Your  distinguished  col- 
league has  achieved  a  great  triumph  for  me.  But, 
gentlemen,  in  fighting  my  battles  he  has,  I  make 
bold  to  say,  been  likewise  championing  you,  and 
not  only  you,  but  every  one  who  loves  his  coun- 
try, for  he  has  been  defending  the  law  of  the 
land.  .  .  .  You  who  have  seen  me  haunting  this 
place  term  after  term  know  how  long  we  have 
struggled  to  get  our  case  to  trial,  and  you  know 
the  means  that  have  been  employed  to  thwart  us. 
But  I  wonder  if  you  realize  that  it  has  been  the 
Administration  of  Justice  that  has  been  on  trial 
during  all  these  weary  weeks  and  months?  .  .  . 
I  have  been  too  vitally  interested  in  the  imme- 
diate outcome  of  this  particular  action  to  philoso- 
phize very  deeply  concerning  the  general  state  of 
the  law.  But,  absorbed  as  I  have  been  by  the 
knowledge  that  further  delay  in  this  litigation 
would  ruin  my  whole  life-work,  I  have  never  lost 
sight  of  the  fact  that  something  far  more  impor- 
tant than  my  individual  fortunes  was  at  stake 
in  this  cause,  and  I  believe  it  was  this  that  sus- 
tained me  and  strengthened  the  arm  of  my  de- 
voted counsel.  .  .  .  My  friends,  when  the  law 

199 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

becomes  the  sport  of  the  unscrupulous  and  a 
weapon  of  oppression  in  strong  hands,  the  very 
existence  of  this  Republic  will  be  in  peril. 
Thank  God  that  day  has  not  yet  dawned;  and  it 
remains  for  you,  who  are  sworn  officers  of  the 
court,  to  say  that  it  never  shall  arrive.  But  the 
peril  is  very  real,  gentlemen,  and  your  responsi- 
bility is  great — greater  than  that  which  rests  upon 
any  other  body  of  Americans  to-day.  .  .  .  Per- 
haps I  have  said  too  much;  but  we  are  parting, 
never  probably  to  meet  again,  and  the  warmth  of 
your  greeting  has  encouraged  a  garrulous  old  man 
to  speak  his  mind.  I  thank  you." 

The  speaker  paused,  and,  swaying  slightly, 
leaned  against  the  balustrade,  smiling  faintly  in 
recognition  of  the  hearty  applause  that  greeted 
his  closing  words,  and  before  it  died  away  Old 
Man  Reeve  started  for  the  stairs. 

"Git  a  chair  for  him  near  the  window  in  my 
office,  Mr.  Brundage,"  he  whispered,  as  he  passed 
the  State's  Attorney.  "He 's  overtaxed  his 
strength  a  bit.  And,  Zeb!  bring  us  the  flask  of 
brandy  you  '11  find  in  the  dining-room  sideboard. 
Here 's  the  key.  .  .  .  Now,  Dave,  just  lay  a 

200 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

finger  on  my  arm.  .  .  .  Sure,  I  know  you  kin 
walk  alone,  but  ef  two  heads  is  better  'n  one, 
why  should  n't  four  feet  be  twice  as  good  's  two? 
.  .  .  There  you  are!  That's  a  pretty  uncom- 
fortable-lookin'  chair,  Mr.  Brundage.  Ain't  we 
got  nothin'  better  outside*?  Well,  never  mind. 
Dave  says  he  likes  this.  .  .  .  Want  to  sit  up 
straight,  eh?  ...  Got  a  sorter  stitch  in  your 
side?  Humph !  That 's  too  bad;  but  I  '11  have 
a  nip  of  brandy  for  you  in  'bout  a  minute,  and 
that'll  fix  you  all  right.  .  .  .  What's  that? 
.  .  .  Son 's  got  somethin'  better,  has  he? 
Good!  Where  is  he?  Upstairs?  All  right. 
I  '11  fetch  him." 

The  old  man  turned,  and,  hurrying  into  the 
lobby,  found  himself  confronting  a  newcomer 
who  was  staring  around  the  room  as  though 
searching  for  a  familiar  face.  The  man  was 
equipped  from  head  to  foot  for  motoring,  but 
despite  his  big  goggles  and  the  fur  helmet  which 
concealed  most  of  his  face,  there  was  something 
in  his  huge  bulk  and  domineering  presence  that 
speedily  turned  the  proprietor's  look  of  amused 
surprise  into  a  scowl  as  he  recognized  Wallace 
20 1 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

Dunham,  and,  nodding  curtly,  started  to  pass  on. 
The  visiting  jurist,  however,  laid  a  detaining 
hand  upon  his  arm. 

"You  are  Mister — *?"  he  hesitated,  groping  for 
the  name.  "You  are  the  proprietor  here,  are  you 
not?"  he  continued,  shoving  up  his  goggles  as  he 
spoke. 

Old  Man  Reeve  shook  himself  free,  and 
turned  away  abruptly. 

"You  win,"  he  responded  over  his  shoulder,  as 
he  moved  toward  the  stairs. 

"Then  wait  a  moment,  please." 

The  Resurrectionist  drew  off  one  of  his  fur 
gauntlets  and,  unbuttoning  his  huge  overcoat, 
produced  a  leather  pocketbook. 

"My  chauffeur  had  breakfast  here  this  morn- 
ing, I  believe,"  he  began,  "and  I  want — " 

"Settle  it  with  Zeb,  the  boy  over  there  by  the 
door,"  interrupted  the  old  man.  "He  'tends  to 
the  help.  I  ain't  got  no  time  to  bother  with  you 
now." 

Mr.  Dunham  frowned  impatiently  as  the  pro- 
prietor disappeared  up  the  stairs,  and  then,  turn- 
ing with  a  smile  of  tolerant  superiority,  recog- 

202 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

nized  the  State's  Attorney,  who  was  emerging 
from  behind  the  office  desk. 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Bnindage,"  he  observed. 
"Our  host  seems  somewhat  short-tempered  to-day. 
Maybe  you  will  introduce  me  to  a  gentleman 
named  Zeb,  who  is,  I  believe,  deputed  to  receive 
cash  insults  for  his  chief*?" 

Brundage  laughed,  and  beckoning  to  the  handy 
man  of  the  Reeve  House,  presented  him  with  due 
formality. 

"Mr.  Zeb,  I  'm  charmed  to  make  your  ac- 
quaintance," continued  the  lawyer  in  a  bantering 
tone.  "Will  you  be  good  enough  to  inform  me 
what  I  owe  for  my  chauffeur's  breakfast?  Fifty 
cents'?  That  hardly  seems  adequate  to  me, 
knowing  as  I  do  the  enormous  appetite  acquired 
by  chauffeurs  in  their  healthful  outdoor  labor. 
But  if  you  deem  it  sufficient  I  must,  I  suppose,  re- 
luctantly concur  in  the  result,  merely  requesting 
that  you  will  transmit  my  thanks  to  the  excellent 
Boniface  whom  you  so  ably  represent." 

Zeb  eyed  the  speaker  with  an  expression  which 
plainly  showed  that  he  did  not  relish  these 
facetious  remarks  and  was  prepared  to  show  his 

203 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

resentment  more  forcibly  if  occasion  required. 
He  received  the  half-dollar  in  silence,  however, 
and,  dropping  it  into  his  pocket,  swung  on  his  heel 
without  a  word. 

Dunham  watched  him  with  a  mocking  smile 
and  then  turned  to  Brundage. 

"I  fear  yonder  yokel  is  not  blessed  with  a  nice 
sense  of  humor,"  he  observed.  "Upon  my  word 
I  think  countrymen  are  the  sourest  mortals  God 
ever  made.  I  've  hardly  heard  a  laugh  since  I 
left  town,  and  if  I  don't  get  back  there  soon  I  'm 
afraid  my  face  will  grow  so  long  they  '11  charge 
me  double  price  for  shaving.  By  the  way,  is 
there  a  telegraph  office  in  this  establishment1?" 

The  State's  Attorney  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  responded.  "But  there  's  one  in  the 
railroad  depot,  if  you  're  going  in  that  direction." 

Mr.  Dunham  consulted  his  watch. 

"I'm  not,"  he  responded.  "And  I  haven't 
time  to  go  out  of  my  way,  either.  I  wonder,  if 
I  left  a  message  whether  any  one  here  could  take 
it—" 

"Certainly,"  interposed  Brundage.  "Put  it  in 
the  bookkeeper's  window  there,  and  Mr.  Reeve 

204 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

will  send  it  down  with  the  stage-driver.  He  '11 
be  here  inside  of  half  an  hour." 

"Good!" 

The  Resurrectionist  stepped  to  the  desk,  drew 
a  telegraph  blank  toward  him,  and,  rapidly  pencil- 
ing a  few  words,  shoved  the  message  with  a  coin 
through  the  round  hole  in  the  glass  partition 
guarding  the  clerical  desk. 

"You  '11  call  the  old  boor's  attention  to  that 
when  he  comes  down — -won't  you,  Brundage1?" 
he  inquired.  "Thanks  ever  so  much.  Good-by." 

The  occupants  of  the  lobby  sauntered  out  on 
the  piazza  as  Mr.  Dunham  strode  from  the  room 
and  stood  watching  him  as  he  mounted  into  the 
driver's  seat  of  the  waiting  car.  There  was 
nothing  remarkable  in  the  way  the  chauffeur 
tucked  the  rug  around  his  employer,  and  his 
method  of  cranking  the  machine  was  common- 
place in  the  extreme,  but  the  little  group  in  front 
of  the  Reeve  House  followed  each  move  as 
though  they  were  witnessing  a  novel  experiment, 
every  detail  of  which  should  be  carefully  ob- 
served. Mr.  Dunham  looked  up  as  the  engine 
began  to  throb,  and,  catching  sight  of  his  audience, 
205 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

waved  a  hand  toward  them  as  he  drew  his  goggles 
into  place. 

"So  long,  gentlemen,"  he  called  out  as  he 
threw  in  the  clutch.  "See  you  next  term,  I 
hope." 

The  car  sprang  forward,  and  as  it  disappeared 
around  a  bend  in  the  road  with  a  defiant  screech 
of  its  siren,  the  watching  lawyers  turned  to  each 
other  with  questioning  glances.  But  it  was 
Warren  who  voiced  the  thought  that  was  upper- 
most in  their  minds. 

"I  wonder  what  he  meant  by  that  parting  salu- 
tation," he  reflected. 

"Durned  if  I  know,"  yawned  Plimpton,  "un- 
less he  thinks  the  Appellate  Court  holds  its  ses- 
sions here." 

"That 's  it,  of  course,"  asserted  Corning. 
"They  're  going  to  appeal  the  Gedney  case,  and 
he  supposes  it  '11  be  argued  in  Belo.  His  guess  is 
about  as  good  as  his  chances  of  winning  on  ap- 
peal, in  my  opinion." 

"Well,  he 's  a  sport,  anyway,"  commented 
Foster.  "Most  men  would  have  been  a  bit  sore 
after  the  hiding  he  got  yesterday,  but  he 's  a 
206 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

better  loser  than  I  thought  he  was  last  night.  I 
don't  believe  many  of  us  would  be  as  good-tem- 
pered under  similar  circumstances.  .  .  .  Hello! 
What 's  that,  I  wonder1?  It  sounds  as  though 
somebody  had  fallen  down  the  stairs !" 

The  speaker  turned  as  he  spoke,  and,  hurrying 
to  the  open  door,  uttered  a  cry  of  alarm  that 
quickly  brought  the  others  crowding  around  him. 

On  the  lobby  floor  lay  Mr.  Gedney,  face  down- 
wards, his  arms  extended,  his  hands  clenched, 
and  his  hat  rolled  to  one  side.  For  a  moment 
the  lawyers  gazed  helplessly  at  one  another,  and 
then  Mr.  Brundage  sprang  forward,  and,  kneeling 
beside  the  fallen  man,  gently  raised  his  head. 

Some  one  ran  to  the  dining-room  and  hurried 
back  with  a  glass  of  water,  but  Brundage  merely 
shook  his  head  when  it  was  offered,  and,  bending 
over  the  prostrate  man,  carefully  felt  his  pulse. 
The  white-faced  group  around  him  watched  the 
test  in  almost  breathless  silence,  and  the  tension 
was  at  the  breaking  point  when  young  Corning 
spoke. 

"Shall  I  go  for  a  doctor1?"  he  whispered, 
hoarsely. 

209 


THE  THIRTEENTH  JUROR 

The  State's  Attorney,  with  his  fingers  still  on 
Mr.  Gedney's  wrist,  did  not  answer  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then  he  slowly  nodded. 

"I  suppose  so,"  he  responded.  "But  I  'm 
afraid  it 's  too  late.  He  's  gone,  I  think.  Fos- 
ter, you  've  had  some  medical  experience.  See  if 
you  find  any  sign  of  life  here." 

No  one  spoke  as  Foster  complied  with  this  re- 
quest, and  it  was  not  until  he  raised  his  head, 
after  vainly  listening  for  a  heartbeat,  that  Brun- 
dage  broke  the  silence. 

"Plimpton  run  up  stairs  and  keep  Pete  from 
coming  down,"  he  suggested.  "He  must  n't 
know  this  yet." 

The  lawyer  nodded,  but  pointed  to  the  body 
on  the  floor  as  he  moved  toward  the  stairs. 

"What's  that  in  his  hand*?"  he  whispered. 

The  State's  Attorney  glanced  in  the  direction 
indicated,  and,  kneeling  again,  raised  the  dead 
man's  right  hand,  and,  gently  releasing  the 
clenched  fingers,  drew  forth  a  crumpled  paper. 

"Good  God !"  he  muttered,  as  he  smoothed  out 
the  sheet  upon  his  knee.  "It 's  Dunham's  tele- 
gram. .  .  .  Gedney  must  have  found  it  on  the 

210 


TO  ABIDE  THE  EVENT 

desk.  .  .  .  No  wonder  it  killed  him.  Listen !"  he 
continued.  "It 's  addressed  to  the  Farmers'  Sup- 
ply Company.  'Congratulations  j  it  reads.  'On 
strength  of  my  exceptions  Judge  Kinsley  set  aside 
Gedney  verdict  this  morning  and  ordered  a  new 
trial.  Costs  to  abide  the  event."  Signed,  'Wal- 
lace Dunham.'  " 

"The  Resurrectionist!"  gasped  Warren. 

"The  murderer,  you  mean,"  corrected  Corning. 

Mr.  Brundage  laid  his  hand  on  the  speaker's 
shoulder. 

"Don't,  my  boy!"  he  protested,  quietly.  "No 
member  of  the  Bar  can  afford  to  talk  like  that. 
You  know  perfectly  well  that  every  lawyer  is 
licensed  to  do  all  that  Dunham  did  and  a  good 
deal  more.  Don't  let  us,  at  least,  fool  ourselves 
by  putting  the  blame  where  it  does  n't  belong. 
This  poor  fellow  has  been  executed  by  the  law 
whose  crimes  we  are  condoning  every  day,  and 
such  work  will  continue  until  public  opinion — " 

"Hush!"  interrupted  Foster  from  the  window. 
"Here  comes  Poinder.  .  .  ."- 

THE    END 
211 


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